I always break for egrets. I don’t feel that way about iguanas, with their slimy poop and evil eyes. But the white heron, with her graceful neck and beautiful white feathers, walks regally through Florida neighborhoods, taking her time, as if to command our attention. At the turn of the 20th Century, Florida herons were nearly decimated by poachers fuel…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Make Orwell Fiction Again to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.