It’s Sunday morning, early, with a sharp wind blowing off the marsh. My eyes are streaming with the cold but I’m here at Walsey Hills in Cley to see a large group of herons that have collected at the pool. They come and go, annoying honking Greylag geese and unsettling Little egrets that are picking their way through the mashed up water. Some are clattering clumsily as they rest for a while upon the nearby tree tops, while another heron searches for sticks and grasses. Others just stand, looking at nothing in particular, as if lost in thought. Stark white egrets weave in and out of the scene between the herons sculpture like poses until suddenly, movement is seen within the water. Action is quick as the heron stretches out its snake like neck, counter balanced on stilted legs. An elegant shape with beak poised like a blade. an unknowing creature is stabbed in an instant. and on and on it goes, like a modern dance.