The blue-gray heron is here again. Flying in with her wobbly-legged offspring, she watches over her child, making sure the two sit together in stillness at the top of the flaming poinciana tree. They are waiting for the one splashing and rhythmically working her way up and down the length of the pool, to leave. Then they will hop down and dip their beaks in the water.Watching, I know they feel my legs kicking and splashing. They know the steady flow of breath in and out and the way the water lifts and softens the intense heat of the day. I also know the exact moment they will fly down and begin dipping, even with my back turned as I leave to go, I know.
I know because we are the same. Entering inside each small, bony frame I feel little hearts beating. I am looking out through sharp eyes and am silently waiting to glide down and take my first sip.
We are the same you and I.
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