Heron Landing on Riverbank
It was early spring, and I could see lots going on in the heronry. As I stood with my binoculars in the shade of a tree beside the Weaver, one of the herons came gliding from the tall trees down to land on the bank opposite me.
After folding his wings and shuffling his feathers, he suddenly noticed me and took off again, flying off down the river and uttering two harsh croaks of disgust at being disturbed.