A heron flew upstream to a quiet part of the river. There, most unusually, instead of standing still and upright, it crouched so that its rear was flush with the shallow bank. “Frogs,” it called, addressing the frogs who had all taken cover upon its arrival. “No need to hide. Come and jump on my back. You can use my bill as a water slide. Come, it will be fun.”

These words caused alarm among the frogs. “Can it see us? How can it see us?” they whispered. “It’s a devil,” some concluded. “It’s a heron,” others observed. “It’s a heron and it just wants to eat us. That’s what herons do.”

“I won’t eat you,” the heron replied as if it heard their warnings. “I’m bored, not hungry, and the other herons are all too serious and single-minded. They won’t play with me and you frogs always seem to be having fun. So let’s have fun.”

Before the more cautious members of the community could repeat their warnings, a young and naive froglet, who did indeed like to have fun, emerged from hiding and jumped onto the heron’s back. “That’s right,” said the heron. “Now onto my head.” The froglet hopped onto the heron’s head and then with a gentle flex of its neck, the heron sent the froglet sliding down its bill and into the water. The other frogs gasped, expecting the worst, but the froglet swam to the bank untouched and, giggling, climbed straight back onto the heron’s back for another go.

Following its example, more frogs came to join the fun and soon there was what you might call a pool party with lots of laughter, shouting, and splashing. The older frogs looked on in horror. “This will not end well,” they declared. “We must do something before it’s too late.”

And so the most senior among them, the mayor, if you like, also came out of hiding. She confronted the merrymakers warning them to stop their foolishness; they were in grave danger and would soon cease to be the heron’s friend and become its dinner instead. The merrymakers paid no attention, of course—they were having too much fun—and the mayor’s reproaches became more frantic and more dire until the heron had had enough. It swivelled its bill, scooped him up, and swallowed him.

“You were right,” the heron observed. “This did not end well.”

© Richard Parkin 2026

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