Every morning when he pulled back the curtains the heron was there in the shallow water at a bend of the little trout river, pecking now and then into the fast-flow. Farther up, in the quieter waters, it was different. He could be seen by a friend, the beak darting swiftly around him at some small animate creature. "I can tell you what it is," our friend said, for this, as well as being a trout river has also a fine stock of salmon redds. "For every peck of that beak which takes a tiny fry, one less salmon will come back to its natal stream in a few years time. But we're not allowed to shoot the heron."
Outside the angling fraternity, it is not a bird that raises emotion. It is tall, slim, grey, with a dark crest and a long yellow beak. When after food in the river or lakeside, the bird is capable of standing like a statue. It has long legs and can wade out into deeper water. It is said the feet are so flexible that it can stand on any stone or shifting pebbles. Apart from fish, the heron can sometimes take small birds such as ducks or water hens out of their nests. Their appetite is considerable. Ralph Payne-Gallwey tells of being handed a young heron which had about two inches of eel protruding from its mouth. The eel weighed 17 ounces and measured 25 inches in length!
At one time, like the swan and the bittern, it was eaten. So wrote Alexis Soyer the great French gastronomic genius of the mid 19th century. He cooked for all the great, including the Marquis of Waterford and for the London Reform Club. He quotes another writer as saying that the heron was a "royal viand". It's a lovely bird to look at, with its lazy flight, handsome wing-span and dangling legs. There are plenty still around. Cabot quotes a probable 3,650 pairs in Ireland. Why shouldn't they share in the fish of the rivers and lakes? But it's easy to understand the ire of owners of decorative fish ponds in their gardens, who find the exotic specimens there are an irrestible lure for this bird.