The heron stands almost hidden among the branches, reeds, and late-summer green. It does not announce itself. At first glance, we might miss it completely.

The bird is in no hurry, it watches the dark water and waits, perfectly at home among the tangle. Its stillness is not inactivity but attention: an alert and patient presence within the living landscape.

There are moments when we must not hurry the world into revelation. We must stop, allow our eyes to adjust, and wait for what was there all along to emerge.