Sunday, 2 January 2011

Walking along the river, I almost missed the grey heron in the grey evening gloom.
He was standing stockstill on the cabin of a motorboat.
All he needed was a braided sailor cap. And maybe a pipe.
It wouldn't have surprised me if he'd consulted a tide table and chugged away.
I walked on, wondering if a slow stroll on a cold day cancels out a large slice of Petersham Nurseries' cake.
Of course, I'd already had the cake.
Carpe dulcem? (Or something like that.)
That's Latin for , "It would be tragic if they'd sold out before I'd got there."
at

8 comments:

  1. kristina3 January 2011 at 10:01

    We have a heron that lives by the pond behind our house. But he has been missing for the past few days...

    K x

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  2. mary3 January 2011 at 11:26

    It's got to be, Kristina ... it's his Sunday afternoon jaunt.

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  3. rachel3 January 2011 at 13:25

    I think I love herons more than I love cake.....

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  4. Darlene3 January 2011 at 13:39

    We have a heron by us as well. There has only ever been one at a time over the years...no sign of family. Something to google.

    A slow stroll is for a small slice, brisk walks are for larger slices. I wouldn't dream of asking a lady how large her slice was though.

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  5. Lucille3 January 2011 at 22:34

    Our heron is a retired history teacher.
    P.S Have finally finished with Romantic Moderns. Did you give up and buy a copy?

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  6. mary4 January 2011 at 00:12

    They do have that look about them, don't they, Lucille!
    And no, I didn't give up and buy a copy ... and I didn't get one in my stocking either!

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  7. Lucille4 January 2011 at 07:56

    In that case we must liase.

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  8. mary4 January 2011 at 15:34

    What a very kind offer, Lucille. And I'd love to!

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