Green Heron

Clay Pit Pond sometimes calls to me. Many weekend mornings I wake and go outside to listen and visit with my bird friends. Very subtly through the molecules of air I hear the ripples of the kingfisher and smell the waters edge.. I know I have to go. I trust the sun will shine over it joyfully today.  Thankfully, I almost always have the good company of @dirtpunk to go along with me. When we arrive and the kingfisher calls, the beaver gives a good tail slap, and the heron flies I am so grateful for my life and the connection to the earth around me.. How can I not be when green herons are my neighbors? I mean.. look at it!

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Warbler

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings he tunes without the words - and never stops at all.

~ Emily Dickinson 

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