"Pesky photographers! Gah!" says heron.

A couple of weeks ago, we walked around Cougar Creek Park again. A quiet, mostly uneventful stroll; a pleasant interlude in a hectic fortnight.

The ducks were back.

The first time we visited the park, in March, there must have been a hundred, at least, in the various ponds, sleeping on the grass, paddling in the creek. Mostly mallards, but we saw wood ducks, widgeons and buffleheads, as well.

By May, the mallard contingent had been reduced to a couple of families. And we heard a red-headed woodpecker. The crows were holding their regular debate session in the trees farther into the bush. No wood ducks. No widgeons. No sparrows, even.

Through the summer, the situation didn't change. Never more than a few mallards and a squabble of crows.

Days grow longer, then shorter. We're heading into wet weather and the birds are trickling back to their winter stomping grounds. At home, I've seen my first towhees since spring. In Cougar Creek, the early wave of mallards is putting dibs on perching spots.

Coming around a bend in the path, we saw a heron in a willow, almost overhead. We stopped short, not wanting to frighten him off, and tiptoed around to get a clear view.

First sighting.


I snuck up on him, crouching in the shelter of berry bushes until the last few inches. Now he's seen me.


And he's not happy about it. He's leaving.

Well, if he wanted to go, I would take advantage of my position to get a really good shot of him flying. I switched the camera to video, and was filming by the time he got to the end of the branch.

And the uncooperative bird dropped off the branch, straight down out of sight, before he spread his wings; I barely saw a flash of wingtip. And through the berry bushes, he gave one mocking "Squawk!"

I got a nice video of a bouncing willow branch and dense salmonberry bushes. And the squawk.