"L ook, look! a white spot of him like a single floating feather comes up from the dead hemlock and grows larger and rises, and come close at last, and goes by the landmark pine with a steady sweep of wings and outstretched slender neck and crested head. And wait! wait! Do not move a foot or a finger, little girl, do not send an arrow of light and consciousness from your two eager eyes, for the heron has perched on a pine bough not far beyond yours, and cries back to his mate on the nest and plumes his feathers for the new day!"
- Jewett, A White Heron
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