That egret looks like it's auditioning for a nature documentary.

The egret stood like a punctuation mark against the vast expanse of shimmering light. Its silhouette seemed to balance perfectly between the water below and the sky above, as if it were a bridge between two worlds. The dead trees around it looked like forgotten sentinels guarding an ancient secret. The air carried a quiet hum, not quite silence but something close to it. I caught myself wondering what the bird saw from its vantage point—was it merely scanning for fish or was there something more profound in its gaze? The lake felt alive despite its stillness, every ripple and glint of light telling a story I could only guess at. The egret didn’t move much; maybe it knew that sometimes being still is the best way to truly be part of the world.