On Saturday I went down to the river, anxious to recover some slow and easy morning time now that school has sucked flexibility right out of my schedule. Even though my school year is off to a great start, I’m still finding the adjustment quite difficult. All week long it feels like I’m in a free fall, then, come the weekend, I land with a jolt. I spend Saturday recovering (and running errands, etc) and then Sunday arrives, feeling just like impending Monday. Oh, how I wish for 4 day weeks and a bit of balance!
At any rate, on this past Saturday before sunrise, I drove down to the river. Although it was clear at my house, the river was wreathed in fog when I arrived. What a difference a mile and some change in elevation can make! There I encountered my photography friend, Roger, and met another local photographer as well. The three of us chatted, enthused about the beauty of the morning, then drifted apart to take photos.
“I’m going to the bridge to see if the green heron is back,” I announced, and wandered off on my own.
Although the heron Roger and I had spotted earlier in the week was nowhere in sight, I traipsed around happily, enjoying the dew-covered webs, the foggy vistas, and the occasional chittering call of the kingfisher.
After a bit, I set off to check out some nearby docks and the spider-web covered aster I’d noticed earlier in the week.
Eventually, I wandered back over to the dock area on the other side of the river. When I arrived, both photographers had their cameras and their attention focused on the water. Clearly, something had caught their eye! As I moved closer, Roger glanced up.
“Oh,” he smiled broadly, “I’m so glad you’re back! I didn’t know where you were. The green heron is here!”
Sure enough the young green heron I had failed to locate on the other side of the river was perched here on the back of a water filled boat. We zoomed, focused and shot picture after picture, making occasional admiring comments.
Shortly after my return, a great blue heron flew in for a cameo appearance.
After a brief visit, he departed, those glorious powerful wings moving him up and away. We turned and followed his flight until he disappeared, then our attention returned to the green heron. He continued to entertain us with his fishing exploits for quite some time, and we shot picture after picture, moving from one vantage to another.
I clicked away as the minutes passed, heedless of time, content to be exactly where I was–enjoying the company of two like-minded folk and an obliging heron. Eventually, the heron flew away and the lure of coffee pulled me homeward. But, after spending a morning down by the river, life felt a bit more settled.
Here’s hoping that elusive balance makes an appearance this week. If not, perhaps I’ll head to the beach.