The egret must have called dibs on the tallest branch—prime real estate for birdwatching.

The egret perched high on the skeletal tree seemed to survey the world with an air of quiet authority. Below it, the pelican moved unhurriedly through the water, as though following some unspoken rhythm. The contrast between their stillness and the starkness of their surroundings was striking. The dead trees stood like sentinels in the shallow water—each one a reminder of time’s passage and nature’s adaptability. I found myself wondering what stories these waters held, what secrets the horizon might keep hidden. The sunlight glinted off the ripples near the pelican’s wake, as if nature itself was winking at its own quiet brilliance. Somewhere in the distance, a faint bird call echoed—a sound that felt like it belonged to a place untouched by urgency or haste.