Freaky, friendly and flamboyant; my friend the grey heron

It was a bright sunny morning, about an hour after sunrise. Armed with my camera and macro lens, I wandered down a beautiful white sand beach in search of hermit crabs. They have always fascinated me. They appropriate abandoned sea shells, to protect their soft exposed abdomens. And just like humans change houses when they gain money and power, these creatures swap shells as they grow in size. This article, however, is not about hermit crabs. Mostly because I couldn’t click pictures of them that day.

Not that there were no hermit crabs on the beach. Just that I was distracted by the charms of a grey heron flaunting its plumage like Hindi film legend Dilip Kumar did in Naya Daur (1957). Those who haven’t seen the film must at least catch the song “Udein jab jab zulfain teri, kanwariyon ka dil machley (the hearts of young girls beat faster when the wind tousles your hair)”. Featuring Dilip Kumar and Vyjayanthimala, it is one of the most beautifully picturised Hindi film songs ever. Though not as charming as Dilip Kumar’s tresses, in the breeding season, grey herons do have a beautiful black plume. My story is about the charms of a heron in breeding plumage.

The Romans had an interesting story about perseverance related to grey herons. The story explains the bird’s scientific name, Ardea Cinerea. The Latin word for heron is ardea, while cinerea means ash-grey. Ardea was an Italian town that was razed to the ground after a battle. The heron is said to have arisen from its ashes. Thus, ardea became the Latin name for the heron and cinerea came to refer to the bird’s ash grey feathers. Until I read this story, I had only heard of the phoenix rising from the ashes. Other birds and animals in the numerous other cultures and mythologies might have risen from other such conflagrations. I don’t know.

All I knew then was that I wasn’t carrying a zoom lens and so couldn’t get a good shot of this beautiful bird from a distance. Quietly, I crept closer. By quietly, I mean I was silent. My DSLR, however, made its usual clicking sounds as I took pictures. I was worried the sound might intimidate the heron. My new birdy friend seemed unconcerned. After having clicked lots of pictures of grey herons over the years using the zoom lens, I now realised that no one can possibly appreciate the size of this majestic bird until they are standing quite close to it. About a hundred centimetres in height, it is large. I was reminded of the bird in Hayao Miyazaki film The Boy And The Heron (2023). The story that echoes Japanese folklore is about the heron that can move between worlds. I imagined this friendly grey heron on the beach guiding me to a magical world. I wondered how we would communicate. Would it talk to me in Hindi, English, Urdu? How would it sound if it chose to speak in Punjabi? As I live in Delhi, I can only imagine these languages, the ones that I understand. And if the heron had held forth in English, would it perhaps choose to speak in a British accent or an American one? I realized I wasn’t sure about the languages favoured by the herons I had met in Bharatpur and in other parts of India.

I definitely knew, though, that the grey heron, like every other heron, prefers water habitats. During the breeding season, much squawking emanates from their twiggy nests placed atop tall trees. During one sighting, I witnessed the grey heron’s ace game of patience. It stood still for a very long time. So long, I lost patience and decided to move away. That’s when there was action! A fish, fooled into drawing closer by the bird’s stillness, swam into its path. Within seconds, it had been spiked on a long, spear-like beak.

Herons symbolise different things to different peoples. While they are a symbol of strength, purity and long life in Chinese culture, they symbolise wisdom for native Americans. In ancient Egypt, they stood for creation while the Greeks believed they were messengers of gods. Japanese folklore sees them as divine, able to traverse across earth, air and water. Grey herons look most impressive when they spread their wings to take off. In flight, they keep their necks in an S shape, unlike many other large birds which fly with their necks straight. Following the grey heron on the beach, I saw that it was trying to climb a broken wall. Has it forgotten that it can fly, I wondered?

I recalled an excerpt from Walking in the New Forest by Joan Begbie: “Once – oh! memorable day – I surprised a great grey heron at his fishing. He was standing under the bank and did not see us coming until Bill came floundering down it into the water. Then he rose and flew majestically away, allowing me a good view of his black pigtail, long yellowish rapier-like beak, and his cold round eye.”

I was waiting for the grey heron to take off so that I too could witness this beautiful sight and click a picture. Oblivious of my growing impatience, the grey heron continued to send me friendly vibes. I began to suspect it was actually waiting for me. Nah, that’s too much, I thought. The Japanese may believe herons are divine but I wasn’t about to go down that path. Then, suddenly, a noisy child appeared on the beach and the heron took off, flapping its wonderful giant wings.

About the hermit crabs, they did model for me but that’s a story for another day.

Prerna Jain is an artist and photographer based in New Delhi. An extensive collection of her work can be found at her website www.prernasphotographs.com and at facebook.com/prernasphotographs. She is the author of My Feathered Friends.