Sun bursts bright over the Cabinet Mountains to the east, casting long shadows of pine trees across Elmira Pond. As if standing center stage in the pond, the sun spotlights Blue Heron. He is bird-bathing, neck fully extended like a vacuum cleaner hose, picking at feathers with his long beak. He preens this way, then that. What a neck.
The sky looks like blue-steel to the west. Rain? Probably. It seems like as good of a time as any to toss the lady-rose-pink "jolly ball" to the horses. If looks could say, "whatever," that is the glance Snapper and Piston cast my way. They continue to munch, living lawn mowers of the pond.
I wait. Blue Heron has taught me patience. If I wait, something will happen. At last, the horses meander, still munching, toward the ball. Snapper takes the most interest, nosing, rolling and even pawing at it. And, like the flap-flap of my favorite blue bird departing, the moment is over.
Rain, Strawberries, Pink Sky & Mist
It's as if the ho-hum jolly ball experience set the tone for the day. Not...much...happening. But the rains do come, the roses cup sky-water, a ripe strawberry reddens to be the first, the clouds scatter into pink shards and mist breathes from the pond. That is the day, and despite the lack of bird visits, it doesn't really feel so ho-hum, after all. Just peaceful.
|Dawn Casts Pine Shadows & Sunlight|
|Blue Heron, Center Stage|
|Picking and Preening|
|Fully Extended Neck|
|It Doesn't Really Do Anything|
|Not Very Jolly, Pink Ball|
|Looks Like Rain is Chasing the Dawn|
|Rain on Roses|
|Pink Skies at Dusk|
|Summer's First Strawberry|