Heavy rain before daybreak. Walking for the Heron Report: first one sits hunched on a branch, facing the bank of the creek, opposite. From this position, its head looks like a hard-boiled egg on grey feathers.
The day is quiet, the sky grey. Mostly runners on the path, single or in pairs.
Another heron flies above the creek, squawking and heading downstream until it lands in the high notch of a tree.
One man jogging: a once-regular whose schedule is shaken up by golf and bicycling. He asks if I am happy about the new man in office and, when I say “Yes,” he relates this:
“People tell me I’m crazy. I wanted Obama to win but I voted for McCain because I didn’t want Obama to win by a landslide.”
Hmmm.
One more heron on the way back, in the water. Just another day.
Related stories:
