Petulu's Heron

 A few of you know that the Herons were a part of our coming to Bali.  This past summer I noticed an unusual number of Herons about.  They become more and more obvious until I had to admit that they were bringing me a message.  After hearing my comment on their presence for about the 50th time, my friend Devon implored me to look in to the meaning of the beautiful birds.  As a water creature the heron is a symbol of going with the flow, and working with the elements of Mother nature rather than struggling against her.   It seems they have incredible vision and precision or seeing what they want and getting it.  I took this message seriously and took the time to get clear on what I wanted.  James and I talked and agreed that our collective vision was to travel with the family.  Once we agreed it was incredible how fast the opportunity and reality unfolded.  Within 8 weeks of our talk we on a plane to Bali.  The week before we came to Bali, we drove to North Carolina the herons continued to present themselves in person, on signs and even t-shirts.  Once in Bali I didn't expect to see them anymore.  Imagine my surprise when I saw a poster that said "keep Bali clean" with a beautiful heron.  I learned that there are many herons in Bali.  They spend their days in the rice fields and their nights in Petulu...

Devin following the birds

Local legend is that there were no herons near Petulu until one afternoon inthe fall of 1965. On September 30, 1965, an attempted communist coup led to the downfall of founding Indonesian president Sukarno and the emergence of General Suharto, who ended the coup.  Afterwards, the communist party was outlawed, and an anti-communist witch hunt swept over the nation. In Bali, the national political differences were bound up with existing tensions over the caste system and land reform.  Religious traditionalists led the search for communists, and many people were brutally murdered, often clubbed to death by mobs. Exactly one week after one of the worst of the massacres, thousands of white herons, said to be the souls of the slaughtered, appeared in Petulu, where no herons had been seen before. They have been coming every afternoon since.

When I heard about these birds I knew I wanted to see them.  Devin, Clare, Sarafina and James, Finn, Harmon, and Vaughn Hawk and I all jumped on bikes one evening and raced up the road.  The map made it seem like you couldn’t miss the turn to Petulu.  So we kept going and going and going.  We went through the painting village, the mosaic village, and basket village and on and on until it was obvious that we were headed into the mountains.   We turned around and started asking around.  Just as we were learning that we had way over shot the turn, I saw some herons flying overhead.  Our journey became one of chasing birds and asking locals how much farther to the turn.  We got to Petulu just in time to see a few birds land in the trees.  Then they started coming by the hundreds and more.  I am not sure we could begin to capture it on film but here we tried.  Watching these stunning animals land one after another after another left us all giddy and speechless.  It was a beautiful quiet ride home.

 

 

waiting on the wire for a chance to get a good spot in the trees