Here, There be a Writer

Monday, April 2, 2018

B is for Blue Heron

When shifting through me collections of books, I found  had a hard time deciding on a book/story for the letter B. I have a lot ob B titles, not as many as M or D  titles though, but I struggled to pick a book that I would enjoy reliving enough to blog about it. After a while I settled on Blue Heron by Avi. Many of you are probably familiar with the name at least, or have heard/read some of his books. He's a diverse middle grade/YA fiction writer who writes about field mice adventures (PoppyPoppy's Return), Edgar Allen Poe (The Man Who Was Poe), teenager girls who become sailors (True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle). Yeah, it is pretty diverse bibliography.

I discovered Avi when I would go on Saturday mornings to my local library in Fredonia, NY. In 1992 I was scanning the shelves of the new releases and found this book and I knew I had to read it. The artwork caught my eye. I love herons. It looked like it was done in watercolours and I wanted to be sitting on that rock. So, I checked it out. The silly, stupid, best part of it was that I was the first to check out from the library. Side note: my first library card number was 530. Yeah, I still remember that dumb detail.

I honestly can't remember much from the book. The last time I read it was over five years ago, I think, when I re-read it. So, it's been a while. I remember it was a story about a teenage girl who goes to visit her father for the summer at his lake house. It is a story about finding oneself, that much I do remember. 

Note: I do want to re-read it. It is only 186 pages, so I will likely do a quick read and an update in a few days to this post.

So, I have a deep love for Blue Herons, and the first time I saw one in the wild I was super excited by the discovery. I didn't have a camera, but I remember trying to remember the details of this tall statuesque bird wading in the waters of a creek in the early evening. It just stood there. At first I thought it was a trick of my eyes, but it moved slightly and I saw the long beak and it's wings. It was beautiful. I smile when I remember that moment.

Now the pantoum. This will be tricky, not having a fresh memory of the story, but let's see what we can do, Dear Readers.

Heron Sight*

It is when there is no sound
and the darkness crawling in
above a creek or lake that
is where you'll likely spy.

And the darkness crawling in,
just after  the sun has gone down 
is where you'll likely spy
this statuesque avian ballerina.

Just after the sun has gone down,
to feed upon the littlest fishes
this statuesque avian ballerina,
in a silent dancing delight.

To feed upon the littlest fishes
that the water can possibly offer.
In a silent dancing delight
is when you could catch it unawares.

That the water can possibly offer,
a meal fit for a Great
is when your could catch it unawares
with no sound your feet to make.

A meal fit for a Great
above a creek or lake that 
with no sound your feet to make
it is when there is no sound.

*-I updated the wording because I wrote this later at night and forgot to review before I post. I think it sounds much better because of it (at 10:06 am).

Okay, I lied. I ended up using my memory of the first time I saw a heron, that's not really a bad thing, is it? I did get a little existential at the end. I would love a comment or two about what you think of the poem though, Dear Readers.

Leave me some love and what excited you the first time you saw it in the wild?


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