Verdure and Veritas
This morning I was so rudely awakened from my slumber well before the chiming of my alarm. The young blue jays haven’t learned a thing about noise ordinances. Oh, the racket. I peered out the window to see the fledglings taking full advantage of my deck railing, the horse fencing, and the bird feeder. One unsure adolescent, with some fluff still sticking to his back, sat on the deck and gazed at his reflection in the window. I wondered if he was thinking, “I’m not ready for this”. I looked at him and thought, “me neither buddy but I better get moving”.
I headed downstairs to the quiet dark kitchen and saw that my little houseguest, a chubby chocolate Chihuahua named Chloe was sleeping peacefully in her bed. Her mom told me that she’s a late sleeper so I poured myself a cup of coffee and headed back up the stairs. I watched and listened to the blue jays while I attempted to motivate myself. I would have much rather been sleeping. I felt terrible all thanks to my latest mishap with a yellow jacket. However, the little luxury of hiding under the covers is one I’m rarely ever given. So goes life. I had to remind myself that some days you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed. The last time this happened I had a blue jay remind me that feeling blue isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Truth be told the day had just started and it was up to me to turn it around.
With the first dose of caffeine down and one more to go, I returned to the kitchen to see Chloe awake and ready to start her day. I grabbed the leash, clicked it on her collar, pulled on my boots, and filled my mug. The two of us stepped off the porch into a soggy world of green. The frequent, much-needed, thunderstorms brought the parched landscape back to life. Chloe trotted along to keep up with my strides as I led the way down the driveway to the road. A little morning exploration never hurt anyone.
We turned right and traveled down the quiet country road. I thought Chloe might enjoy seeing the pond with all its wildlife. Congregated on the surrounding lawn were the various goose families, goslings now indistinguishable from their parents. At the water’s edge were Mama Wood Duck and her ducklings. One by one the little ones hopped into the thick pale green algae that now blankets the pond. Mama wasn’t far behind. How they are changing!
As I was staring, at Chloe at my side, I noticed something else along the bank. It looked like a piece of a tree branch sticking out of the grass. But that part of the pond never had any trees near it. Aha! Butorides virescens was standing still waiting to catch some breakfast. In other words, this greenish bittern-like bird aka the green heron was camouflaging himself to trick a fish. Green Herons are known to drop small objects like insects into the water to attract their prey. This use of tools had gotten them a place on the intelligent bird list. Unfortunately, his concentration was interrupted and with a protest, he flew off to land in a tree across the street. Maybe he figured he’d have some peace at the pond in that field. I watched as he settled into the top branches of the tree. If I didn’t observe him land I would never have known he was there. I marveled at his ability to blend in with his lush green surroundings. How many times have I walked past a green heron in plain sight? It got me to wonder just how many times I didn’t notice something that was right before my eyes.
As Chloe and I walked back up the hill home, it began to drizzle. The cool, damp morning was such a relief after our streak of heat. I decided to send the horses and goats out to the upper pasture. It seems like forever since they’ve gone up to graze. With the swing of the gate, the little herd galloped to the juiciest location. I hoped that they could enjoy the better part of the day foraging and frolicking and not just standing in their stalls munching hay.
The day had just begun and all I wanted was for it to be over. I certainly didn’t want to be responsible for taking care of anyone or anything. When I looked around the property I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by all the growth. The gardens needed tending, the lawn needed mowing, and the wild roses were growing out of control (despite my goats’ best efforts). On days like this, when I’m feeling particularly blah, I think maybe apartment living is where it’s at. But once I feel better I don’t give it a second thought. But this morning I was being a bit pessimistic. No matter how hard I tried I could not shake my bad mood. I figured I’d do the minimum and make the best of it. This too would pass. I just had to find a way to turn things around.
Throughout the misty day, my daughter and I would take Chloe for walks. Hannah’s excitement over having a cute little dog within her reach was too much to contain. She wanted to show her off to anyone who would look. Several times we wandered down the road to the pond to see if we could spy the green heron and each time I was overcome by the landscape, the greenness, and the density of it all. But I never did see him again even though I was sure he was hiding in the open.
That’s the beauty of this time of year. The dense foliage and the verdancy conceal so much of the wildlife. We often hear their calls and songs without ever seeing them. I couldn’t help but acknowledge the power of the color as it soothed and renewed my spirit. Add the serenade of birds, insects, and amphibians and I was in attendance at Mother Nature’s free retreat. I noticed that the more time I spent outside the better I began to feel. Maybe not physically but mentally. My physical wellness is something only time and rest can fix. But my mental state is something the great outdoors always improves.
So I went through my slow, seemingly arduous day wondering about the heron and all his qualities. I found myself contemplating how long he was standing at the edge of the pond so still and tranquil and I felt a little bit guilty about possibly being the reason he missed an opportunity to eat. After all, I showed up with a dog and most likely disrupted the dynamics at the pond. However, I’m sure the heron as well as the other pond life are all used to disruption. Aren’t we all?
That’s just it! I was annoyed about having my routine interrupted by not feeling well. I had to take a lesson from the heron. Even though his morning hunt was disturbed he didn’t just stand on the side of the pond pouting and whining. No, he flew off determined to find another, maybe better, opportunity. I needed to find other not-so-physically taxing ways to be productive. So with my determination, I got to work doing a little refrigerator clean-out and cooking. It was a win/win way to spend the afternoon. Everyone needed to eat and there were plenty of items in the fridge that needed to be used up. By the time the evening rolled around I had broccoli quiche, zucchini bread, and apple cake all cooling on the counter, potatoes boiling, and steaks defrosting. And an improved attitude as well.
After dinner and dishes, we all headed outside to enjoy the beautiful evening. I trudged over to the barn to wrap up some unfinished chores. Hannah and her Dad took Chloe for one final walk. While I was dumping the wheelbarrow I thought about the heron. I put my chores on hold for a few minutes and scanned the area around the pond. I was certain the Green Heron would be procuring himself some dinner. I heard the familiar oo-eek of Mama Wood duck calling for her babes. It reminded me of a mother telling her kids it’s time to come inside with the turning on of the street lights. On cue, the ducklings swam across the pond to join their mom and the family retired for the night. As I was preparing to walk back to the barn I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. There he was flying low over the pond. My entire day just got a whole lot better.
As dusk approached, the chickens jumped into their coop, the horses moseyed to the barn for their evening grain, and the bloated goats trotted down to their pen. I gave them all the usual once over and said goodnight. It was time for me to head in as well. I turned my attention to the darkened landscape hoping to spy the barn cats who should have also been returning for a meal. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The fields were lit up by thousands of twinkling lights. The fireflies were out in full force. Coming from the yard I could hear laughter as Hannah raced around trying her best to catch lightning with her bare hands.
The fantasy setting at the end of my day was in stark contrast to the beginning of it. The harsh squawk of the blue jays had been replaced by the soft chorus of tree frogs and crickets. Darkness and fairy lights took the place of flourishing vegetation. I couldn’t help but laugh a little at the idea that during the daylight hours those magical nocturnal insects were merely hiding on the ground among the tall grasses. One would just have to get down to hands and knees to seek them out.
If I learned anything from this day’s reflection and wondering it’s that sometimes we miss what is right in front of us because oftentimes we allow the simple and understated (creatures, people, actions) to go unnoticed and unappreciated. We are looking for the flash and the grand gestures like seeing the Bald Eagle snatching fish out of the pond with his massive talons. It’s so easy to miss the Green Heron. But what if we looked for the hidden little pictures inside the bigger one? Couldn’t we find so much more beauty and learn so many more lessons? I’m sure you know I think we can.
So I end this winding wondering feeling so much better now that I realize that the little things I do also matter a great deal. The fireflies reminded me that my spirit is what makes me shine and I can still illuminate those around me even when my physical body is failing me (I don’t why I’m so hard on myself but that is for another time). Chloe’s mom is happy that her dog is being loved and cared for in her absence. My 75-year-old neighbor appreciates his loaf of zucchini bread because when I showed up at his house with it he said, “I’ve been waiting for this!” It’s those every day easily dismissed deeds, not just the huge accomplishments, that make up the grand scheme of life. I don’t have to achieve greatness to have a positive impact. I just have to be me.
Photo credit allaboutbirds.org
