August 29, 2012, journal entry

I had no idea that the great blue heron was territorial. I began my pre-run warm-up by walking the perimeter of Manito Park’s duck pond to collect purple and blue duck feathers when I heard some serious waterly shuffling and splashing. I ran beyond the trees to the clearance so I could see what was happening. At first, I thought that a Canada goose was having it out with Oliver, my most favoritist great blue heron, it was so loud. But as another great blue heron flew off, grey-blue feathers darkened by water, he vocalized his displease loudly, hollering so much that I heard him blocks beyond where I could see him.

Meanwhile, Oliver fished peacefully.

I had no idea that the great blue heron was territorial. After all, they roost in colonies known as rookeries. But then again, solitary they are, tall, thin, sleek. Ready for flight.

Makes me wickedly wicked happy.

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More Things that Make Me Wickedly Wicked Happy

The mighty banyan tree of Hawaii…and my photo shoots with this gorgeous tree. I absolutely ADORE this tree. So I missed the Pearl Harbor exhibit. I will catch it next time. Cuz I got some quality time with this tree.

Montgomery, Alabama. My MHIT cohorts. Blount Cultural Park and its egrets. I LOVE Montgomery. I think it is beautiful. I just accept that my glasses will slide slug-like down my nose in the humidity and that I will throw my healthy-eating ways out the window. YAY, fried green tomatoes and the thick pimento cheese sandwiches that I eat guilt-free all week long.

That year round, I go bonkers on my right-brained runs. Springtime, in crazy-cat-lady fashion, I collect robin and starling blue eggshells and carefully carry them in my plastic sandwich bags. Then the fistfuls of royal purple and blue duck feathers of early and mid-Summer and the black crow feathers of Summer to Fall that end up in glass jars. And the acorns of Autumn. Acorns and acorns that fill trays and glass jars.

And the striped rocks and pinecones year round.

Though the temperatures in the day are in the 80’s and 90’s, the morning cool and the slant of shadows and light of the Sun tell me Autumn has already arrived. And it is Autumn. The Wheel of Seasons spins, disinclined to be dilatory this year, and all my senses are keenly aware as the Veil of Summer thins, declining, yielding to Autumn as She offers her harvest. Acorns have begun to drop from oaks, popping like frying bacon, and I collect gorgeous capped nuts in the plastic sandwich bags I carry, added to my bounty of crow and duck feathers.

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Tattoos and GRACE.

GRACE.

The great blue heron. Tall, sleek for soaring flight.

GL, 8/29/2012. Prevail.