Blue Heron's are not your friend

Why I’m scared of big birds. Do not take this statement to mean I’m scared of Big Bird from Sesame Street, him I am not afraid of. He taught me my ABC’s and how to place nice with others. Mostly it is the water fowl with the long legs that hold my terror. I like eagles, and hawks; I have no problem with ducks; but a bird with long legs, those I want nothing to do with. It all started one fateful day when I was around ten. I will tell the story to the best of my ability but time and fear may have impacted how I remember the events.

I had to collect butterflies for a school project, I am sure most middle schoolers had to do something similar, collect butterflies and pin them to a corkboard. I always felt that this was a little bit like torture, but that is neither here nor there. Back to the story, I go to a pond somewhat close to my house. Like most rural ponds it was surrounded by weeds. I was poking my way around, when I heard the weeds rustle. I stopped, waiting to see what would emerge being a semi country girl I was not overly worried. I’ve encounters my fair share of wild animals, I knew that for the most part they are more scared of me than I of them.

For a moment there was silence, and then the most hideous squawking began. It startled me, but not enough to make me run, I stood there, waiting. Innocent and unknowing. More rustling and squawking occurred, I took a step back, as I did this long legged feathered creature came out of the brush. If I was an Ornithologist I would have recognized it as a blue heron, being that I wasn’t and only a child I thought it was something from a nightmare. It stood as tall as me, which granted at that point wasn’t that tall, but intimidating none-the-less, it had long spindly legs, a long neck, beady eyes and a pointed beak. It stood there squawking and flapping its wings at me, science has proven that humans when faced with danger have a fight or flight response. I chose fight, and I swung the butterfly net I was still holding at it. This was not the correct response. Instead of intimating the bird to leave me alone it charged at me, wings flapping, beak squawking and head bobbing. So I tried the other option, flight. I dropped my butterfly net, the one that had offended the bird, and RAN. This bird, this long legged, feathers ruffled, squawking bird CHASED ME. In my mind I ran for miles, but realistically it was probably only a few feet. When I realized I was no longer being chased, I stopped, turned around and looked. The bird was standing there, waiting to see what my next move would be. I thought briefly of going back for my butterfly net, as I would need it to complete my project, then I realized I wasn’t expected to do well in school, so screw the project. That bird was scary and I was going home. As far as I can recall, I never went back to that pond. And my fear of birds with long legs was firmly established.