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“Sometimes I think that the point of birdwatching is not the actual seeing of the birds,
but the cultivation of patience.” –
Lynn Thomson

90 degrees
Feels Like: 96
Humidity: 54%
Pollen Count: 11.0 (!)

A lazy Labor Day weekend Sunday.
I rise from my second nap of the day.
There are seven library books to return.
So I grab ’em and head for the lagoon.

No birdsong to speak of.
Even the cicadas are keeping it to a dull roar.
I keep an ear out for the bird I’ve been hearing the past couple of weeks that sounds like a monkey.
(That would be the white-breasted nuthatch.)
I don’t even hear that.

But!
I finally catch sight of the great blue heron!
A pair or two of these herons always nest at the lagoon every year.
My summer is never complete until I spot at least one of them.
Now it is.

Walking towards the gazebo/Dream park/shelter part of the park.
A man stands at the lagoon shore talking loudly to himself.
Bluetooth makes it so hard to tell if someone is madly talking to themselves
Or not.
I don’t look hard enough at him to be able to tell if there’s an earpiece
Else he might think I’m slightly mad.

Then I catch site of a young photographer in a pink shirt.
His camera is on a tripod and pointed out over the lagoon.
I surmise the throng of happy people in the shelter must be wedding guests.
Unlike me he probably was able to photograph the great blue heron.

After dropping the library books off I spot a sign along the sidewalk,
The first in a series of four Burma-Shave style signs:

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Yep.


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