Harriet the Heron

It's been an atrocious spring for weather - wet and cold. The sun hasn't peered out in ages and it rains constantly. We are waterlogged and grey. People are afraid to leave their nursery plants outside as the temperatures are still in the single digits, at night, and sometimes even in the day. It is miserable.

Yesterday in a dry moment we went out for a long walk around town before the sun set. As we walked across the swing bridge toward the town dock, I saw my town town crush, Harriet the Heron, swoop down and land. My heart skipped a beat. Normally she spends her days under the bridge up the river on King Street where she can stand on the rocks and fish, but the river is too high and she'd be swept away. I always look for her and take a moment to drink in her beauty. I'd never been as close to her as I was yesterday. We'd never stood on the same level. This was a thrill. It's always a great privilege when we are able to stand toe to toe with nature - even if only for a fleeting second.

Meanwhile, at our house a robin nested on our front door. There was only one baby; last year there were three. Each morning I open the front door and check in on them. This morning, I peered up and they both looked down at me. And then in a great flurry of wings they exploded from the nest. I saw Mom and baby fly away together. And just like that, with my heart pounding, we are empty nesters, once again.

Our newborn robin about nine days before take off