In Prickley Bay, near the mangrove, a great heron stands at dusk in stillness every evening. Always the same spot. The same heron. It does nothing but stand and occasionally, very occasionally, turn its head. The heron, the mangrove alight in fabulous colour are a dance, a poem.
That made me smile.
ReplyDeleteBut I don't get why it is labeled "classical ballet". Did I miss something?