The Watcher Bird

   Most of the time, people watch birds.  I watch birds.  Their antics amuse me and it has been instilled in me by a favorite (late) cousin, that I should identify birds.  I try.  Fairie Lyn was far better at it than I will ever be.  Birds were her passion.  Birds are an amusement to me.  Sometimes, however, the birds do the watching.

There is a bird that visits the pier often.  Each morning, I can find the Little Green Heron sitting next to one of the posts.  It is watching.  "Watching for what" is the question that bothers me.  Is the bird merely watching to see when the minnows get trapped in tide pools?  Is it watching for the gator to come and go so it feels safer?  Or, is it merely watching the waves and is mesmerized by the motion?  Whatever it is doing, the bird is so absorbed that it rarely hears me approach.  When it does, it will move to the other side of the post and continue staring out over the water. 

  I sort of feel at one with this bird.  I can watch the water for hours on end, too.  There is, indeed, something mesmerizing about the movement of the waves.  It is calming and causes one to become lost in deep thought.  I understand the bird's wish to be undisturbed in its oblivion.  I am right there with you, bird friend.