I went back yesterday evening to the park with my camera. Part of me wanted to prove I hadn't seen a ghost (see yesterday's post). As I walked the main path that travels the length of the park, I laughed to myself about the possibility that it wouldn't be there. When I arrived, the Great Egret was in the shallow pond where the water had gotten so low from lack of rain. It stood in the shadows, digging for food in what little water was left. Spots of sunlight, now in the midst of golden hour, trickled through the trees occasionally dancing off the water or its white feathers.
A couple of older gentleman, seeing me with my camera, asked if I was with the paper. I told them no, "I just like birds." They were a bit chatty wanting to know about my camera and the Egret, and the Green Herons that were also eating nearby. But finally, they quieted down so I could focus my energy on this elegant bird and what it meant to me.
This Great Egret was a reminder of the good in my marriage, not the parts in hindsight I now question or doubt, but the parts I know were truly good. This was a reminder of the comfort I felt with my ex-husband, the way his laughter made me feel, the good conversations we had, the times I felt seen, and the comfort of his embrace. There wasn't a disconnect in this moment like there has been with so many other reminders.
So I sat in silence with this Great Egret. And then I picked up my camera and captured its light in various angles. When I was happy with the photos I had taken, I sat longer with the bird, feeling a sense of peace wash over me before I finally made my way back home. And then I slept eight hours straight without even my normal nightly bathroom break.
No comments:
Post a Comment