A White Heron: The Secret at the Top of the Tree


A stranger offered Sylvia ten dollars for a secret. She was nine. Her grandmother had almost no money. All Sylvia had to do was find a white heron’s nest.
The stranger loved birds. He knew their calls, their hiding places, their names. Then he explained his collection: he shot them, stuffed them, and kept them.
Sylvia knew the marsh where the white bird fed. Ten dollars could buy so much. But she wanted something else, too: for this friendly stranger to be pleased with her.
Next day, she followed him through the woods. He taught her things. She wanted to help him. But whenever his gun fired, a song disappeared.
That night, Sylvia thought of the tallest pine. From its crown, perhaps she could see the nest. By morning, she could give the stranger exactly what he wanted.
Before dawn, she slipped out. An oak grew beside the pine. Sylvia climbed its wet branches until she reached the place where the two trees touched.
She crossed into the pine. Twigs scratched her arms. Sticky sap caught her fingers. Below her, the woods began to wake. Above her, the branches grew thinner.
At last, the top. Beyond the trees lay the sea. Sylvia had heard it on stormy nights, but never seen it. Now the morning sun was turning it gold.
Then a white shape rose from the marsh. It passed near Sylvia and settled on a branch. For one still moment, girl and bird faced the morning together.
The heron called toward a dead hemlock below. There was the nest. Sylvia knew the way now. She began the long climb down, imagining the stranger’s delight.
At the cottage, both of them were waiting. Her grandmother questioned her. The stranger watched her scratched hands and torn dress. Sylvia only had to say where.
She thought of the money. She thought of his smile. Then she remembered the bird beside her in the pine. Sylvia said nothing.
The stranger left disappointed. No money came. And on many evenings afterward, Sylvia missed his whistle along the pasture path.
She missed him. She only wished he could have loved the bird while it was still alive.
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