Blue Herons and Things
Sometimes, messages come to us in the strangest of ways... In something someone says to us... In something that we read... In the presence of an animal... And sometimes, in all three... And that was the morning I had, so I share these messages with you, hoping they may yield an insight or two for you... I began my morning by reading and sharing this poem by Mary Oliver: Heron Rises from the Dark, Summer Pond So heavy is the long-necked, long-bodied heron, always it is a surprise when her smoke-colored wings open and she turns from the thick water, from the black sticks of the summer pond, and slowly rises into the air and is gone. Then, not for the first or the last time, I take the deep breath of happiness, and I think how unlikely it is that death is a hole in the ground, how improbable that ascension is not possible, though everything seems so inert, so nailed back into itself -- the muskrat and ...