Yesterday the puddle was alive.
The heat had finally broken, the breeze had returned, and it seemed as though every neighbor, feathered, furred, and shelled, had been waiting for permission to come back outside. The herons visited again and again, six times throughout the day. Each time I was so excited to see them that I forgot about taking pictures. I simply watched.
Today was quieter.
It wasn’t me who noticed first. Hadley looked toward the water and said there was a heron. This time we were ready. We watched, recorded a little video, and captured a few photographs.
Standing in the shallow water covered with summer green, the heron hardly moved. It reminded me that not every meaningful moment is dramatic. Sometimes the gift isn’t in the arrival but in the willingness to stand still long enough to notice what has already arrived.
Yesterday gave us excitement.
Today gave us remembrance.
Both were gifts.
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