The spoonbill looks like it's ready to stir the lake with its bill.

The spoonbill stood motionless at first, its long flat bill poised just above the surface. Then it began to move, one deliberate step at a time, as if testing the water’s resolve. Its reflection quivered with each ripple but never quite disappeared. I found myself drawn to the quiet precision of its movements—an unhurried search for sustenance that seemed almost meditative. The lake's surface shimmered faintly under the overcast sky, and for a moment, it felt as though the bird and its surroundings were in perfect harmony. I couldn't help but wonder if it ever grew tired of this endless rhythm or if it found solace in it.