A beautiful story from an island legend recently passed … thank you, Jane
Last week Gary Carlson and his brothers held a celebration of life for Jane Carlson, a long-time resident of Boca Grande. While he was cleaning out her home, he came across three versions of a story she had written in longhand.
It was evidently very important to her, in that she kept them with her medals, awards and her Dollar Store receipts. Gary took the pages home and carefully translated them into a single draft. It is a beautiful story and will be read in Jane’s voice in the minds of those who knew her. It was also read at her service.
We hope you enjoy it.
BY JANE CARLSON
I am a painter, and very often I sit on the shore sketching impressions to be brought to life at another time in the comforts of my studio. On one of these occasions I experienced one of those rare happenings in nature that one never forgets. At least I know that I will never forget the experience I am about to share with you.
On this particular morning I was doing what I always do when I sketch outside: sit upon my stool with a sketch a pad and pencil in my lap, trying to capture the light and shadows of the dunes. Engrossed in my work, I detected a presence. I looked up, and not two feet away was a huge and gorgeous blue heron standing silently watching me work. The best word to describe him was “regal.” He stood tall next to me, with long plumes swaying in the breeze. Oh, how I wanted to stroke his elegant long neck. He wasn’t paying any attention to the artist however. It was the drawing that was holding his attention. He stood silently for a long while staring down at my efforts, then with a great whoosh, he was gone.
I remember thinking what a wonderful experience that was. Well, what do you know, a few minutes later, he was back. This time he put down a distance away and moseyed over silently with those long legs, and stood right next to me to further survey my progress. He never looked at me directly, just stood there for a very long time, silently curious, watching the pencil move on the paper. Then he was gone again. This happened two more times. Each the same.
I would have given anything in the world to know what he was thinking. Doesn’t it make one wonder just a little? Or a lot?
I think of this encounter with nature often, and the memory of this enormous, elegant, very fine creature, just like us, trying to get along in the world.
Again, just like us. It makes me smile.
Oh, by the way, in my next life I have decided that I want to come back as a Great Big Blue Lady Heron. I want to come back and live in the trees.
