In-heron-ly Joyful

What is there about the respite of rain followed by cool clearing after a heat wave that so delights the spirit and energizes the body?  It is grace and glory, and I am grateful.

After a few days of heat and humidity in the 90s, where any unweighted sheet of paper curled and lifting one’s arm was enough to break a sweat, yesterday was better, last night there was a short but violent storm and, when it had blown by us, cool evening breezes swept the skies for the rising full moon.  I tumbled damply out of my apartment and onto the street, following the sweet siren call of the water, and walked along its edge as a brilliant magenta and gold afterglow from sunset lit the west and that gorgeous moon in the east illuminated the high tide lapping at the walkway.  A white heron flew directly over my head, awkward legs trailing and beautiful anyway, a good omen in Native American tradition.

 

It's a great blue heron, not a white one, but Roger photographed it in Maine the other day

Last night I slept – with a blanket, no less! – and woke this morning to a cool breeze and a clear St. Michael’s blue sky that sent me back out to the water in joy.  Another heron flew over, this one to my left, heading for Bayonne, where I, myself, will be heading later, in a more earthbound way, with friends.

Both last night and this morning, if I could have danced under the sky by the water without being seen, I would have, for sheer joy.  Someday, maybe I will.  For now, I am filled with a totally irrational and overwhelming sense of energetic optimism.  It’s completely unwarranted – we haven’t had the money to pay our rent yet or all the bills this month, I’m still underemployed and uninsured, and as far as the world beyond us goes, well, as a friend recently posted on Facebook (a Status I stole to re-post):  “Where are we going and why are we in this handbasket?” – but today I don’t care.  The bright sun and breeze beckon, and I will use the time I have today well.  It is enough.