Bringing up the rear (after the white and the pink birds), the little blue heron. Ta da. And an even littler one on the way.
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We saw you, America.
In Belleau Wood and Bastogne, at Normandy and Guadalcanal, from Chosin to Kandahar, they did what was asked of them. Wherever they fell, they did what was asked of them.
We know. We knew them.
We see you honor them.We see you, America. pic.twitter.com/K1NQdWgpqN
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“To do nothing is in everyone’s power.” - Samuel Johnson
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28 May 1941 | In the evening a transport of 304 Poles deported by Germans from #Warsaw arrived at #Auschwitz. Among them were 12 priests, including a Franciscan Maximilian Kolbe (no. 16670) who on 29 July 1941 offered his life to save a prisoner selected for starvation death. pic.twitter.com/1cCd9ae0kq
— Auschwitz Memorial (@AuschwitzMuseum) May 28, 2022
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Beautiful birds and beautiful photos.
Judith – Thanks! Like lots of big birds, they hold still for long periods . . .
How does it attend to its feathers on his neck and head?
Barbara – Friends?
Very nice collection Isabel. I always liked finding these guys in the wild. (As I suspect you know, the juvenile little blue heron is pure white)
Jim R – Yes, I guess I know it, although I forget that oddball colouring from one time to the next, so it’s not very well seated in there. On our travels, I see more tricolor herons than little blues, I think. But they’re all good.
Learning that these beauties start out life with white feathers lends the thought “maturity” to elegance. They sport such painterly details, as though dressed for company, delightful birds.
Laurna – Ah. Sort of like my Pinky-Winky Hydrangea which blooms white and matures into a deep rose. If only someone had come up with a more elegant name for it.