Ermine #1 Nikon z6iii with 180-600mm lens

"The Watcher in the Stone"
Nestled deep where mosses cling,
A flick of white, a silent wing
The ermine waits in granite shade,
A ghost of winter softly laid.
Eyes like ink on parchment bright,
Survey the world with quiet might.
A monarch cloaked in frost and fur,
No crown more regal could occur.
The rocks, his ramparts, cold and gray,
The lichen paths his courtly way.
He does not speak, yet all things hush
The wind, the leaf, the mountain thrush.
What tales he guards beneath the stone,
Of snowbound hunts and nights alone.
Of fleeting steps on frozen ground,
Where silence is the loudest sound.
So pause, dear traveler, if you dare,
And meet the gaze that holds the air.
For in that stare, both fierce and shy,
The wild still whispers, “I am nigh.”