Hope Returns

   Early this morning after a drizzly rain, I slipped out into the small gardens to see if any of my newly planted seeds had sprouted.  I am late getting the plots ready since I am on "light duty" for the rest of this year.  No digging means no rows which, in turn, means no gardens. Still, where there's a will...there is usually a way so I did the next best thing of planting without well turned soil.  Armed with a trowel and a small hand rake, I planted.  Now we shall wait and see if the feeble efforts turn into something durable.  

  The garden, however, was not the highlight of my early morning traipsing.  Again, that light duty is also tied tightly with limits as to where I can go unaccompanied.  The pier (also known as "my favorite sunrise place") is definitely out of my realm but that does not mean that I cannot edge my way to the clearing where I can view the length of the path and pier.  I did and I saw an old friend just waiting at this end of where the pier starts.  A Great White Egret was resting while watching the mudflats for anything she could have for breakfast.  This is a bird that I named "Hope" several years ago when the whole country was in the midst of the COVID scare.  That was the same time that I had a stroke and was bound to the Small Gardens for the duration of my recovery.  (Much the same as now but for different reasons.)  Hope and I got to know each other rather well since I was deemed a "non-threat".  She would come to visit each day and we would while away an hour or so just being together.  Neither of us made much effort to "tame" the other but it was like we had an understanding.  Now...she is back.

  Hope looked a little worse for wear after the stormy weather of the past few days. Her feathers were ruffled and she looked tired...much like me.  I am not sure the bird recognized me after my absence but there was no forgetting her.  She helped me before and I almost got the feeling she understood my plight once again as she came a bit closer to where I was sitting.  There, we visited...me on the upturned old boat on shore while she stopped about twenty feet from me.  We stayed...I talked...she listened and watched for bull minnows in the marsh.  Good friends are like that.  Good friends just care.