The patience of the Great Blue Heron

I often wondered what made the same blue heron regularly land on the same logs by our boat. The cartesian thinkers and environmentalists alike are gonna tell you that he comes there to feed himself. Well yes, but there are many feeding places on the Skagit, and some probably even more sheltered from human activity than our spot. So what makes him come back, and once gracefully landed, wait there, immobile, for hours? I watched, and listened. He's waiting, waiting for something. He can remain motionless for long moments, only every now and then imperceptibly, gracefully turn his neck, or stretch it forward occasionally to look for food. But what is he waiting for?
I fancied he may be coming from another world, a world of ashes and chaos, and that being the sole survivor of all species of that world, he landed here because he thought he could survive. I also fancied that what he's tirelessly waiting for is a female from his species that could have survived the chaos too and found her way to here. If only all humans could have the faith, patience and determination of the Great Blue heron. We should look at him attentively, look at that ash colored robe, the last witness of an untold, unheard of chaos. Look at that beautiful and sad robe, and remember, remember to preserve this world from turning into ashes.