Saying Goodbye

Dawn, this one is for you.

Today I left my house and my problems behind to venture outside with my camera and see what I could see. It was a rare cool Florida day and I couldn’t wait to take advantage.

It was cold enough to surprise me back in; to change into my heavy Adidas jacket and some tennis shoes. I went outside, newly armed against and invigorated by the brisk wind I wasn’t expecting. I started out making my way around the large pond in the front yard. I brought up short by a gorgeous and wild heron intently watching the rippling water. I held my breath, not daring to bring up my camera, as she craned her neck and tilted her head, eying a fish in the murky water that I could never see. She broke her stillness abruptly, striking out with rapid precision. I nearly jumped but managed to regain control of myself in time to watch her come back with a tiny fish wriggling furiously in her beak. She waded backward in what should have been ungainly movements with those spindly legs of hers, but somehow maintained the grace and poise of a classically trained ballerina.

I moved my camera up then and her hair-trigger survival instincts reacted instantaneously. Huge white wings unfurled and pumped heavily through the air. She lifted straight up, clear of the water; and with her legs dripping gentle trails across the pond’s surface, flew away with her prize, alighting delicately in top of a nearby tall cypress tree. I smiled to myself and began my photo hunt. Passing two baby daisies gave me the idea to try out my macro setting that a friend told me about and I got to work. As I snapped away at a cactus growing out of a tree and some tiny red berries, I felt a calm settle over me.

The air carried just the barest whiff of a fall long past, and the animals and insects were in a shy mood. They would chirrup, snuffle and buzz every now and then, but most seemed to be huddling somewhere quietly for warmth and winter companionship. My grandparent’s dog, Missy, (the old, blind and stubborn monster) danced around by my side with a happy little grin on her face.

I moseyed around to the back few acres next and stopped by my Papa’s garden. It is over a half acre of the best vegetables around. Sweet corn, rutabagas, turnips, mustard greens, beets, tomatoes, cabbage and much more were planted in long rows of soft, slightly dry mounds of deep, earthy smelling dirt. I knelt down and ran my fingers over the tips of some beets poking out of this moist ground, letting it sift through my fingers, inhaling the rawness of it all.

I took a few pictures there, then just set the camera aside and sat down next to the garden. You can see the rest of the pics on Through My Jendow. Missy sat a few feet away, watching me out of the corner of her eye, while playing Ms. Big Bad Watchdog. I felt soothed by the whisper of the wind as it wound its way through the many trees around me, the monotone tiny voices of countless insects and the sound of faraway voices laughing.

It was a perfect time of day. Sunset was still more than a solid hour away, but the sun was starting to say its tentative goodbyes, the color of its rays less sharp now and more golden, its beaming face larger and warmer than before. I looked up at the baby blue sky and thought about the wispy, light clouds… I wished, not for the first time, to be a bird on wing for even just a second. To feel the freedom of  diving and swirling through the sky, temporarily unfettered by the laws of gravity. I thought lazily about life, love, and happiness. Filled with the contentment of perfect moment, I let my mind wander at will, drifting through and around topics with an easy mind.  Startled out of my lazy reverie by Missy’s loud, insistent barking, I looked over as she announced the slow arrival of a car up the long gravel road.

We don’t like visitors in these here parts.

Grunting, I lifted myself off the ground and dusted the dirt, bugs and grass off my behind. Before heading back inside though, I took one last, long look around me. Nothing beats going home…but I will sure miss the slower pace of this little nature heaven.