The lake was calm, the air thick with the warm hush of a fading day. I had come seeking light—chasing the last rays of the sun through the lens of my camera—but found something far more stilling.

There, standing in the glassy shallows, was a heron. Tall, statuesque, and utterly present. Its silhouette stretched elegantly against the glowing canvas of water, barely rippled by the gentle evening breeze. I paused, not wanting to disturb the scene that had unfolded before me like a quiet gift.

The heron didn’t flinch. It seemed to know I was there, but offered no sign of concern. We stood together, not as intruder and subject, but as two beings sharing a singular moment. Both watching. Both listening to the silence speak