Mom's Home! Mom's Home!

My dad has an audio recording he made of me when I was three years old or so.

On the recording, he quizzes me on my numbers and my boyfriend—who for the record was Andy, the paste eater and not P.J. who picked his nose and stuck his boogers on me.

But at one point on the recording, I start screaming, not out of fear or anger, but pure excitement and joy.

Why?

Because I was looking out the window and saw my mom pull up in the driveway.

She had probably been gone only a few minutes to the store or to get her hair done, but what is time to a three-year-old?

I had missed her.

She had been gone and now she was home.

I was thinking of that this morning while watching a Great Blue Heron nest.

The two juveniles are growing fast and growing strong. 

They’re not ready to leave the nest yet.  The mother still returns to feed them, but she doesn’t live with them anymore.  She doesn’t keep them warm at night.  She doesn’t keep the big, bad ospreys away.  They are on their own.

I was taking their picture, though, today when all of a sudden, I heard honking and hooting in the distance.  I looked to my right and there was the mama heron, flying low, getting ready for a visit.

The juveniles reacted instantly, crouching low, flapping their wings, squawking and hollering in excitement.

Mom’s home!  Mom’s home!

It was such an amazing thing to watch unfold.