C.W. Anderson’s Billy and Blaze books, with adventurous prose and sensitive, soft pencil drawings of a boy and his horse, made lasting impressions upon my childhood brain, so much so that I have named the Gring’s Mill bridge heron Blaze because of its dramatic white shock of head and forehead capping feathers.

   When I crossed the bridge this morning and looked down, there stood Blaze fixed still and rigid as if affixed to the flattish rock below the dam. It could have been a metal sculpture.  A man with a foot-long lens at the parking lot triggered a notion to go back and retrieve my camera and in that ten minutes, Blaze was gone, although a heron flew from downstream, in an arc over the bridge and that has been caught in my Coolpix digital snare.

   The mist brought out the streaks in the barks of trees, a dinosaur egg and a small foam dinosaur. Pick of the Litter is an oval disc maybe half an inch long that looked like an upsidedown fruit sticker and turned out to be a tag IMPRESSION. When I crossed the bridge to return to my car, the limestone rock the heron had occupied looked to me like the head of a retriever in right facing profile. That’s the impression I got. Warm, rain and moisture have combined to create an atmospheric cloak. Boy is it foggy. A heron flew near Oak Hill entrance at 8:13 when I arrived home.


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