Winter Heron Visit

Dear WEb,
Sometimes I feel drawn to write in order to somehow be closer to Phoenix. It's that devotional thing, maybe. Tonight is my last night before I return to work. This has been an extended retreat for me. I am most grateful to have had this time to rest, rest, rest and to catch up on business. I got a lot of things done that had been waiting in the wings, so to speak. And the time to rest and move at my own pace most of the time was delicious. I will miss that.

And my life is readying to change again. Such so that Heron came to mark it for me yesterday. It was so poignant--she landed by the pond just as I arrived at the kitchen window for some water. And just as my partner arrived to my whispered call for her to "hurry, come see!!!" a red tailed hawk flew above the pond and the heron to a near by tree. J and I were stunned, totally. Heron means so much to me and hawk has meant much to her. And there they were together. It was incredible! And Hawk stayed close to Heron for a while. We wondered and smiled about their seemingly unconventional relationship,

Heron was intriguing to me. She stayed right there on the northern corner of the pond, hunkered close into the bank and her head and beak tucked into her breast feathers. It's been so cold and wintery these last many days. We've had so much snow and the temperatures have been in the 20's and lower. She landed on our pond, we think, to get out of the wind, rest and maybe restore her body heat. Though aren't birds cold blooded? (ie they can stay warm no matter what) Well, she may be cold blooded, but/and I think she was cold! I looked on line about herons and what I found said they do not do well in cold climates. It has been unusually cold these last two years and I remember wondering last winter where herons go. Now, I know that one comes to our pond! Much to my delight. She stayed there much of the afternoon, then flew on.

She got me thinking about bracing myself and about ways I try to insulate myself with some sort of self-comfort. She also got me thinking about banking myself--allowing the Earth to break the wind, so I can rest. And I find it fascinating that she landed and stood in the only remaining small circle of unfrozen water beside where the spout feeds the creek water into the pond. Initially I projected the thought that that would be cold...and...then another thought came: it's the sound my ears seek every time I come home or leave home. The sound of running water, the sound of the life force moving. Of course that might have appeal to her too: she who may be tired, she who may be struggling with an unnatural environment, she who is seeking comfort.

I have spent a week home tending to myself, tucking my beak against my breast, listening to the life force move in spite of the freezing all around. Heron reminded me of the importance of all of that. She also marked the day that I began turning my attention to a new class I'm teaching next week. She reminds me, perhaps, these new students may be seeking/needing a place to land, to rest, to restore and find some comfort from "a climate that is inhospitable" (thanks to O. for articulating that last piece). It's a harsh time right now for so many--not just physically with the weather, but psychically, I think many are challenged to find peace and comfort. I know I sure am.

So, thank you, Heron. Thank you, Phoenix. I love you beyond measure. Everyday. Every moment.
Love,
Melissa
PS...I miss your ears.
PPS...Just now I can hear owls hooting into this most cold and clear, snow sparkling night! They are loud all around the house! What a gift--Heron, now Owls! I am blessed.