Copyright 2010

Have you ever had the pleasure of floating down one of the many spring fed streams coursing through the Missouri Ozarks? If so, you have undoubtedly engaged in a game of "hide and seek" with the Great Blue Heron.

Growing up in Missouri I have spent hundreds of hours on it’s rivers with paddle in hand, and every so often I would catch up ahead a vertical cast of blue and gray, something both gangly and majestic, either perched up above or wading down below in the grass. I soon became familiar with the Great Blue Heron - but never up close. As I would excitedly approach, the Great Blue would arch up it’s wings and turn, flying away, only to alight somewhere around the bend. As I would round that bend, the search was on for the hiding place - for it was never far. Having discovered the “hider,” the game would begin again, and repeat itself long down the river.

I’ve grown to love the Great Blue Heron over the years and he seems to show up most places I go: farm ponds, the Chesapeake, the Carolinas, along the Gulf, the Northwoods and even along the Pacific Coast. But alas, although I could never count the many Herons I‘ve seen, I have never really seen one (without binoculars) up close. Like a slate-blue ghost who teases from afar, but disappears into the mist as you approach.

It was not until I painted this Great Blue Heron that I truly really appreciated their elegant beauty - something I suppose I had always taken for granted, given their ever presence throughout my life. I thought about painting a flowing heron in flight, but decided against that, preferring instead to create a simple straight forward portrait of the quarry that always alluded me on my approach. This time I would catch him and keep him, just the way I would find him, hiding on the stump, looking for me, just around the bend.

Believe it or not, this was the first oil painting in which I had attempted to paint feathers. When I started the painting, I was simply aghast at the fine complexity of the birds featherwork. I had never truly noticed or appreciated the long flowing plumes that adorn the breast, nor the patches of blue and the hints of earthen sienna that accent the neck.

All my life, I have lived right next to this exotic bird and never really noticed. And now as I tried to discern the intricate pattern work among the variety of feathers types, I felt that my hide and seek nemesis, would allude me once again. But at last I think I have finally caught him - and this time he can‘t arc, turn and fly away, no matter how closely I approach.

Rob Dreyer