When Mother Nature wants no help

Just before sunset on a summer evening as I sat on my porch awaiting sunset over the little pond and hills across the road, my phone rang.
"Can  you come over to Halburton Road right away?  I hit a huge bird and I think his leg is broken," the anxious voice said.  " Do you know what the bird is?  Was it flying when you hit it?"I asked, trying to obtain as much information as possible before going on a rescue mission.  "Big, really big and sort of blue.  It was walking across the road."  From this I decided it was probably a Great Blue Heron.  They can be dangerous to handle.
Their beaks are powerful and can inflict terrific wounds.  Also they have a tendency to strike at eyes.  So I grabbed my catch pole and took some heavy elastic bands to slip onto the bird's beak to keep it closed.  My ever-ready black bag had emergency supplies and was always freshly stocked.  
SAying "I'll be back" to my Aussie, Heather, I hopped into my Jeep
Cherokee and headed to Halburton Rd.  It was dusk when I arrived.  The road was narrow and bordered by swampy land on either side.  At first I saw no one, then as I drove slowly on I spotted a car parked on the side with two figures standing next to it.  I pulled in behind them.  "He is in the water", a young girl cried.  The woman reported that the bird had hopped on one long stick-like leg to the marsh and slid into the shallow water when they tried to approach it.  That was most fortunate, for if the two had gotten close to the bird he might have attacked and injured the well-meaning pair.  I looked out at the
darkening pond and saw the great bird, a Great Blue Heron as I had suspected, floating like a ghost ship on the surface.  His head swung back and forth nervously as he kept his eye on us.  We stood very still, not speaking, in hopes he might come close enough to hard surface that I might be able to slip the loop of the catch pole on him.
As day turned to dark night, the bird had not come within reach.  Other than the reported damaged leg, the bird did not seem to be hurt.  Frogs on the further edge of the swamp began to sound.
"Plunk plunk" sang the banjo frogs.  "Garumph", responded the lone Bullfrog.  They were potential food for the injured bird.  When the ladies started their car after thanking me for coming, the sound of the engine alarmed the bird.  He raised up high in the water, spreading his wide, mighty wings and lifted his body into the air.  He flew around slowly, one leg dangling, before landing again on the surface of the pond.  He was alert, had a source of food without needing to travel far, and capable of flying should a predator threaten. 
Nature was going to heal this fellow unaided.