Do the bird

Having a comfortable excuse of having to get to a meeting at the other end of town, I sneaked out of the office early today, early enough to enjoy the last of the evening sun as I walked along the Water of Leith. The river supports a decent bird population, and each species seems to have their favourite section. The swans tend to hang out in the residential area near Murrayfield stadium, probably to maximise feeding potential as the river is popular with kids; in fact, there were a few toddlers and their mums, optimistically throwing the swans pieces of orange from a bridge. The swans did not seem to mind. The commotion even attracted a greeb.

Vaguely confused swan.

Optimistic greeb.

The ducks seem to prefer the calmer waters around Dean Village, where they preen and paddle in big groups.


I love looking at ducks, because they always seem so content, not a worry in the world. But today I was keeping my eyes open for my favourite dweller. And there it was, swooping down from the valley slopes on those wide, grey wings. The heron.


There is something about herons, the grace and the patience, and the crazed look in their eyes, that really appeals to me. Understated. And vaguely reminiscent of academics when you think about it - the suspicious, keen look, the hunched shoulders, the flowing robe and the legs that look like they have too many joints... This heron likes to hunt on the weers, I guess it's comfortable to spot fish that way - but there are some issues with keeping both feet on the ground in such a strong current, and on such a slippery surface. Hence, I give you, the bird dance.