Sunday morning, 7 a.m. and I was at the park.

This was the first morning the temperature had dipped below 60.  It was 56 and I was loving it.

There is something so comforting in putting on the first sweater of the season.

I had a plan; I was going to get an action shot of the blue heron I had been introduced to the other day.

I rounded the corner and stepped onto the boardwalk that rings one of the duck ponds.  I had been told the blue heron was there every morning.

I readied my camera, focusing it so I would be able to snap a quick photo of the far side of the pond.  I hoped to snap a photo of "Big Blue" feeding.

I walked about 50 feet in and stood, using the zoom on my camera to scan the far side of the pond.  I scanned to the left, then to the right; no heron.  I looked one more time but had to accept he was not yet there.

I capped my lens and turned the camera off and began walking quickly across the planks to reach a waterfall I particularly like.

Suddenly, an explosion of blue and grey and a sound of wings against water drew me to the edge of the walkway.  Big Blue was right under where I stood.  I fumbled with my camera trying to turn it back on and remove the lens cap as he rose above me and did a majestic half turn before he settled onto the boulders on the far side of pond.

By the time I was ready for the shot he had settled in regal manner and calmly preened his feathers.

Lack of preparation had robbed me of my opportunity.

Leaning against the railing, like the photographer of the other day, I watched and waited, willing him to take flight again.

He wasn't going anywhere so I took a couple of still shots and went on my way.

Not a single encounter with another person and for today that was just perfect!