An elusive green heron flew into my life as I paddled my kayak along Connecticut’s Farmington River this spring. We linked eyes for a moment, as if checking each other out. I brought my camera to bear and witnessed the bird I named Rapier, begin the hunt in a secluded corner of the watershed. I captured a moment when the predator seemed ready to strike. For me, it was exhilarating.
The photo I took of this magical creature won top prize in the prestigious photo contest held each year by the Eastern States Exposition – The Big E. The fair since 1916 has grown into a behemoth celebrating the people, the food, the livestock, wildlife, shopping, agriculture and music of the six New England states.
I’m a native of Massachusetts and have been going to the nearly three-week event in West Springfield, Mass, since childhood. This time around, a fowl friend made it special. The green heron who posed so elegantly was star of the contest, taking the 2024 Best in Department prize in the fair that sees about 1.5 million revelers annually and this year drew a record of more than 830 photography contest entries. The bird also took my breath away.
I began kayaking and photographing the Farmington River during 2020 as my escape from COVID shut in. I went from canoeing and photographing Brooklyn’s Gowanus Canal Superfund waterway to the Farmington River, which in 2024 was listed as the sixth most endangered river in America. The two locations have given me an incredible body of work based on and around the water. This year, I have published and am selling both an ABSTRACTS GOWANUS CANAL 2025 CALENDAR and a LIFE ON THE FARMINGTON RIVER 2025 CALENDAR.
The kayak allowed me access to a natural wonderland that felt devoid of any other humans. My second entry in the contest titled “Balancing Act” captured an Eastern Painted Turtle poised perfectly on a rock, a prehistoric-looking reptile in the waters of our endangered river. I found green heron sharing this domain within a turtle breeding pond, hidden down a flood-swollen stream off the Farmington River proper. I visited this hidden treasure for a month, until the water receded, making the stream impassable, even for my kayak.
I’ve been out looking for the heron whom I’ve named Rapier, because of its razor-sharp beak, ever since the day I immortalized him (her?) on the main channel, but no luck. Were it not for the award-winning image of Rapier, I would think I’d dreamed up the dramatic winged flyer like some kind of cosmic apparition. A green heron in brilliant blue.
I’ll be out on the river again, searching for Rapier, not for another portrait, but to thank my pal for forever becoming part of my life.
I find myself looking forward to spring’s rush of water.
