Excerpt from The Herons of Elmwood by
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Call to him, herons, as slowly you pass
To your roosts in the haunts of the exiled thrushes,
Sing him the song of the green morass;
And the tides that water the reeds and rushes.
Sing him the mystical Song of the Hern,
And the secret that baffles our utmost seeking;
For only a sound of lament we discern,
And cannot interpret the words you are speaking.
Sing of the air, and the wild delight
Of wings that uplift and winds that uphold you,
The joy of freedom, the rapture of flight
Through the drift of the floating mists that infold you.
Composed in Photoshop using layers, Window overly created in AutoFX Mystical, styles to add wood appearance to window framing, textures, and backgrounds.
Lake background image photographed in Hurley, New York, USA.
Herons photographed in Denmark, courtesy of Kira
Textures courtesy of AvaVerino of Flickr