The heron's usual spot

Still there, still refusing to acknowledge me from twenty feet away, still standing in exactly the same spot on the far bank where the willow leans out over the water. I've started to suspect it's the same bird as last winter by sheer stubbornness alone, though I have absolutely no way of proving that and every reason to think herons don't care one way or the other.

Watched it not move for the better part of ten minutes, then commit entirely to one strike that I somehow still managed to miss the moment of, eyes drifting off just long enough. That's the way it always goes. Whatever it caught was gone in one motion, and then it was back to standing there like nothing had happened.

The pond's dropping fast with the dry spell — more mud showing at the edges than I remember from this time last year. Good for the wading birds if it keeps up, though I suspect the fish have other opinions on the matter.