Its unusual I see a heron and when I do it always stops me in my tracks. It has a rather ungainly, unlikely flight, normally in a steady straight line, making it instantly recognisable and my heart leaps.
A heron-sighting has become a sign for me. I will pay attention, and normally feel reassured, glad.
And so was born my logo, an elegant, silhouette of one of these gorgeous creatures. Like with many birds, the link to spirit feels clear: free from the bounds of the human body, no longer limited to standing on the earth, the soul can take flight, both in happiness, elation, and also as a sign of transition when death occurs.
The cycle of life, begins and ends at specific points, each new dawn preceded by a dying out, the rhythm in and out of the tides, of the breath in the body, of wings rising and falling.
There is further significance for me in a song I discovered in recent years, by Carolyn Hillier of Seventh Wave Music – it encapsulates my love and honour of the heron:
I hope the link takes you easily to the music, its number 6 on this page
lyrics
Buzzard call You back to the Wild Lands
Heron Fly You Home
Journey to the Soul of your Own land,
Where the Mothers wait for Your Return
Heron Fly You Home.
The tune I know and sing is a little different, but any which way, its such an absorbing image for me, a link to the ancient, rooted safety of a spiritual home land.
My height comes from both of my grandfathers, one of whom urged me as a growing teen to stand tall with my increasing inches, shoulders back, head up, and so here too, a personal affection for this bird was born. As I look through images online, the position of a heron’s head, long neck and vast wing shape, I am called into its presence. A decent distance from the pace of modern life, I allow my gaze to rest on that still posture, steady and true, and I feel peace.
