I envied the heron that lived his life at the edge of the park by the weir, between there and the estuary. I envied him his wild detachment; his haughty superiority. The huge nest in the canopy of tree tops overhanging Telford’s road bridge must have made a noisy nesting place, but the heron didn’t seem to mind. There were frogs, mice, water voles, rats and fish aplenty and young moorhens and ducklings in season. His female was brooding a clutch of eggs when it happened.
The van’s brakes failed as it came careering down the precipitous, winding hill towards the bridge. The driver made his choice. Ahead of him was a street of busy shoppers. To hit the bridge would mean a disastrous plunge onto the trickling river bed. He veered off to the left onto the grass, and using the hand brake; he swerved and slammed side on, into the trees. Badly bruised, cut by flying glass, shaking from his experience but otherwise unharmed, he clambered out of the wreck.
She hadn’t left her post, the female heron. Her universe had shuddered and shattered. Branches damaged by the winter storms had cracked. Her body hung limp from a branch, neck broken, six feet of wingspan outstretched. The nest had plummeted to the ground and half formed chicks, all dinosaur and yolk, were splattered over the river bank. Everybody remarked how fortunate it was no one was killed.
Later, I stood and watched the solitary male, a slender, stilted statue; alone and vulnerable amid the grey rushing waters of the weir.
Oonah V Joslin lives in Northumberland, England. Winner of the Micro Horror Trophy 2007. Most read in EDF, January 2008. Guest judge in the Shine Journal 2008 Poetry Competition. She has had work published in Bewildering Stories, Twisted Tongue 8 & 9, Static Movement, and 13 Human Souls. She has work coming up in The Linnet’s Wings, The Ranfurly Review and Boston Literary Magazine. You can link to work, follow up-dates and contact Oonah at www.writewords.org.uk/oonah/.
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33 Comments »
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Fantastic flash, Oonah, full of life and action. How sad for the heron(s). Loved this “half formed chicks, all dinosaur and yolk” - you put that so well.
Loved the imagery, Oonah. You have a deft touch.
Oonah,
a great portrayal of tragedy in a microcosm.
Cheers
Mark
Beautiful! This is a stunner, Oonah.
Loved the dinosaur reference, very topical.
Well done.
Bill
very sad - and a beautiful story
Herons have a special place in my heart, so I just had to read your story. Just so sad. You showed by a faint touch many people’s opinions about animals, and in this case, birds, being less important and of no consequence! The way you arranged your words nearly “hid” another point of view. This is the BEST story I have ever read here.
Patty, thank you so much. That is a great compliment.
You will be glad to know then that it all exists, the bridge, the winding road, the weir, the park, the Heron himself - but I don’t know where the nest site is. Somewhere safe I hope
Thank you to all of you have commented so far.
A well depicted slice of life. Sad.
Than you Avis
Lovely and sad. Oonah, this is pretty amazing. Commentary deftly hidden in poetry.
Gay, Shhhh! If you tell them it’s poetry they’ll charge me extra for printing it…
Sad, sad, sad. I love when everyone remarked that no one was hurt. Well, more I hated it, but that’s why I love it. Great story, Oonah.
Thank you Kevin, I’m glad you liked it.
A nicely sad tale. I have a heron behind where I live who feeds on the frogs in the pond, especially now in spring. Good story, Oonah.
Thank you DJ. How nice to have a heron so close. Mind I like frogs too so… Thank you for your appreciation.
Oonah
Has left me speechless.
Rena, thank you. That must mean you liked it
Like poetry, Oonah. Beautiful! Made me think of the sandhill cranes that live in my area…
As our Bill Oddie (TV ornothologist, comedian and all round good egg) is always saying - everyone has a ‘patch’ where they are familiar with the wildlife. I really pity anybody who doesn’t appreciate their local creatures. I’m glad brought to mind your cranes
Touching…few are gifted with your amazing talent in writing
Oonah,
I just read this story. It’s seven o’clock in the morning in the Nilgiri (blue mountain) hills in India, and I am surrounded by bird song such as one never hears in the city. And, your beautifully written story - with not a word extra, not a line that didn’t evoke an emotion - just breaks my heart. Thank you. This one is definitely one of the very best I’ve read on the net.
Rumjum, It is so amazing to reach out to India in the early morning and thank you so much for that great compliment. I’m glad you found my story touching. Many thanks.
Oonah
Oonah, that is great. Sad. Visual. Brought tears to my eyes.
Thanks Jennifer. I knew you would like it.
Oonah. That was a beautiful story and thanks to Every Day Fiction for bringing it to us. Celeste
Beautiful name…Celeste. Thank you for reading and for your comment.
Oonah
When I read words that make poetic imagery become music, I know there is a God. Thank you, Ms. Joslin, for a moment of transcendence. Lynn Hesse
“a moment of transcendence” Lynn - if I managed that, there is indeed a God. Thank you for your kind and generous comment.
Oonah
Breathtaking!
Thank you too, Pamela.
Extremely sad yet beautiful, Oonah. Wonderful stuff.
Rosie
Thank you, Rosie for taking the time to comment.