On the mend

Today I spent the day sleeping, and it felt GOOD! Long about five o'clock, I began to rally, and Drew and I stepped out to pick up a package at the office. It was nearly summer outside, so warm with perfect blue skies. The tulips are glorious reds and yellows, nodding in the slight breeze. We parked at the office, right across from the strip of natural wetland (the clubhouse is nearly a half mile from our building, so I took the lazy way out and drove down).

The water level is still high from the earlier flooding, but the rushes are winter brown and rustly. A duck flew across the windshield of the car, so close the irridescent green blue of his feathers startled me. Wow! It was then that I saw him - our resident heron. He is early returning this year, and generally does not allow himself to be seen. I have never seen him with a mate, always standing solitary on a clump of marshy grass, quiet and motionless, the white crest of his head poking up above the surrounding browns.

I wonder what brings him back year after year alone. His presence is a huge draw for the residents, and many of the retired couples bring their grandchildren to see him. He will not stay visible long. I don't know if he has other hangouts in the area - perhaps his mate is nested on another wetland area, and this is his getaway spot. Or his fishing hole. His comings and goings intersect with our lives obliquely, and perhaps he comes to gawk at us as much as we come to gawk at him.

Drew comes out of the office with a box. One of my wonderful friends has sent me some delicious English treats - perfect for a light supper. We drive back up the hill with full hearts, drooling over the goodies, sampling the white chocolate cranberry cookies, and smacking our lips. Sometimes even a quarter of a day can be most pleasant.