I met my friend Susan this morning at the Wetlands. Normally we drive around and take pictures from the car, but this morning it was so beautiful out, such the perfect temperature, with the sun playing peekaboo with the clouds, that I asked Susan if we could walk instead.
She's the triathlete, so she always prefers walking.
I go to the Wetlands almost every day, but walking this morning allowed me to see the Wetlands from a totally different perspective. There are roads that are forbidden to cars but not to pedestrians and the road we walked this morning was filled with birds, swarms of female grackles, and tiny little Savannah sparrows darting in between branches and blades of grass. Great blue herons honked and soared over the water. An osprey circled, looking for a fish and I even managed to snap a picture of the rare caracara with its toucan beak, in flight.
I spotted an American bittern and told Susan how rare they were and then I amended that and said the bird itself isn't rare, but it's so skittish and so well camouflaged that it's hard to get pictures of them.
Susan and I talked about all sorts of things as we walked. We talked about politics. We can't help ourselves. But we also talked about nature, about the earthy smell of the wet ground underfoot, the smell of things growing, tall green things, shooting skyward toward the sun.
"We are so blessed," Susan said.
As I drove home, I was thinking about my daily question--where did I see Jesus today? The answer seemed obvious even though it was only nine a.m. and the day not close to being over.
But then I spotted something out of the corner of my eye, something white in the retention pond along the road. I turned off into a church parking lot.
Maybe it was just a great egret or a snowy egret or maybe--maybe it was something more.
Yesterday, I didn't stop for the white pelican.
But today, I was rewarded for stopping. There were three white pelicans floating lazily in the water surrounded by dozens of cormorants.
It was a beautiful sight. The white pelican marks the change of seasons here in Florida. The summer is filled with blooming flowers, the winter with migrating birds. It is that in between time where the plants are dying and the birds have yet to arrive that is so difficult to get through.
But the white pelicans are here now. More birds to follow. Hope is just around the corner.
She's the triathlete, so she always prefers walking.
I go to the Wetlands almost every day, but walking this morning allowed me to see the Wetlands from a totally different perspective. There are roads that are forbidden to cars but not to pedestrians and the road we walked this morning was filled with birds, swarms of female grackles, and tiny little Savannah sparrows darting in between branches and blades of grass. Great blue herons honked and soared over the water. An osprey circled, looking for a fish and I even managed to snap a picture of the rare caracara with its toucan beak, in flight.
I spotted an American bittern and told Susan how rare they were and then I amended that and said the bird itself isn't rare, but it's so skittish and so well camouflaged that it's hard to get pictures of them.
Susan and I talked about all sorts of things as we walked. We talked about politics. We can't help ourselves. But we also talked about nature, about the earthy smell of the wet ground underfoot, the smell of things growing, tall green things, shooting skyward toward the sun.
"We are so blessed," Susan said.
As I drove home, I was thinking about my daily question--where did I see Jesus today? The answer seemed obvious even though it was only nine a.m. and the day not close to being over.
But then I spotted something out of the corner of my eye, something white in the retention pond along the road. I turned off into a church parking lot.
Maybe it was just a great egret or a snowy egret or maybe--maybe it was something more.
Yesterday, I didn't stop for the white pelican.
But today, I was rewarded for stopping. There were three white pelicans floating lazily in the water surrounded by dozens of cormorants.
It was a beautiful sight. The white pelican marks the change of seasons here in Florida. The summer is filled with blooming flowers, the winter with migrating birds. It is that in between time where the plants are dying and the birds have yet to arrive that is so difficult to get through.
But the white pelicans are here now. More birds to follow. Hope is just around the corner.
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