On one and only one of those evenings I tarried well after dark, and lived to regret it because I had no flashlight with which to navigate the long boardwalks over the marsh or the rough ground of The Hammock. It was a harrowing trek back home. The reward for my folly was worth it, though.
That's the night I spied a dusk-loving green heron standing in the mud at the edge of the marsh water. It was too dark for clear photos. You'll have to imagine the rich shades of blue head, red neck, green wing feathers, and yellow feet. He was beautiful to behold, and patient. He stood longer than light allowed me to watch.
I swear, he was baiting his prey. If I hadn't seen it with my own amber browns, I wouldn't have believed it. He broke off bits of dry marsh grass to drop in the water, then had for supper whoever it was that came to investigate. dkm
