Ruby Rose
Location: Canadian Prairies
Who hasn't seen or heard a family pet's mourning a passed master?...but there are others who mourn. In 1997, at Chemong Lake in the Peterborough, Ontario area, which is a locus for blue herons, I witnessed a mourning. Here for you is the poem I wrote about it:
"A Mourning"
by Ruby Rose
An early morning in May...
Standing on the deck...
Listening to a faint whispering of leaves
As a morning breeze filtered past...
I witnessed...a mourning.
Standing below on the rickety dock
Stood a solitary figure...
A majestic Great Blue Heron.
With head bowed...and left wing tucked down,
I sensed unshed tears...mounting up within.
There were no sounds in airspace
Surrounding this gentle giant
But the echo of a bugle
With strains of taps in the air
And a lone soldier with head bowed
And bugle tucked under the left arm...
Came to mind.
She stood motionless for two hours or so,
Then, elegantly unfurled her left wing,
Raised her head and with long legs trailing behind,
She flew off to parts unknown...
Leaving the echo of her huge shadow behind.
Tentatively strolling down to the dock...
Peering through the debris...
Dead fish, broken branches, litter.
Espying, nestled in the murky water...
The littlest hatchling.
All pink with sparse feathers
With no fat on the lining or intestines,
The pectorals withered...
Tiny breast bone protruding like a knife.
Reminiscent of a premature fetus...
An hour passed by...
A knot of sorrow formed in my throat
As I stood and shared in her grief.
Then, she returned
And maintained her vigil
For another two hours or so...
She flew away...
Leaving the area for many a day.
I wonder still...
Would there be an elusive thread of pain
Or would she return to Heron Island
To mate again one day?
Would we see this tall wading bird
With eyes of yellow
And head of white with black stripe
Gracing each side...
Slender black plumes...greyish blue back
White breast streaked with black...
Standing motionless at the water’s edge
Awaiting an unsuspecting prey...
To feed yet another young one?
by Ruby Rose
An early morning in May...
Standing on the deck...
Listening to a faint whispering of leaves
As a morning breeze filtered past...
I witnessed...a mourning.
Standing below on the rickety dock
Stood a solitary figure...
A majestic Great Blue Heron.
With head bowed...and left wing tucked down,
I sensed unshed tears...mounting up within.
There were no sounds in airspace
Surrounding this gentle giant
But the echo of a bugle
With strains of taps in the air
And a lone soldier with head bowed
And bugle tucked under the left arm...
Came to mind.
She stood motionless for two hours or so,
Then, elegantly unfurled her left wing,
Raised her head and with long legs trailing behind,
She flew off to parts unknown...
Leaving the echo of her huge shadow behind.
Tentatively strolling down to the dock...
Peering through the debris...
Dead fish, broken branches, litter.
Espying, nestled in the murky water...
The littlest hatchling.
All pink with sparse feathers
With no fat on the lining or intestines,
The pectorals withered...
Tiny breast bone protruding like a knife.
Reminiscent of a premature fetus...
An hour passed by...
A knot of sorrow formed in my throat
As I stood and shared in her grief.
Then, she returned
And maintained her vigil
For another two hours or so...
She flew away...
Leaving the area for many a day.
I wonder still...
Would there be an elusive thread of pain
Or would she return to Heron Island
To mate again one day?
Would we see this tall wading bird
With eyes of yellow
And head of white with black stripe
Gracing each side...
Slender black plumes...greyish blue back
White breast streaked with black...
Standing motionless at the water’s edge
Awaiting an unsuspecting prey...
To feed yet another young one?