I'm Just Wild About Harry

I rolled out of bed this morning feeling very out of focus, disoriented in a way, like something was missing. Something is indeed missing and it happens to be my memory. In the past few weeks I've lost a camera lens, my winter jacket, and other things too numerous to mention. How on earth does one lose a winter jacket when it's 40 degrees?

Anyway, I bolted the house in search of Harry. The lakes and ponds are frozen over now and I found myself wondering where a heron would go to find his tasty trout. He was standing at his solitary post at the beginning of the pond, where the water falls bubbling, over the dam. "Hellooo solli! Long time no see! Have you brought your breakfast? I've just had mine." He let me approach him slowly and as I was snapping quite a few side portraits of him, he turned to give me his infamous frontal "I'm a lost teenager" look.

All was very good with the world. I felt my soul knitting itself back together, the Canadian geese were in V-formation flying overhead, and I was able to document Harry to my heart's content.

But it was not to last. Trouble with a capital T that rhymes with P was headed our way. A runner! I watched as Harry positioned himself for a take off. As the runner turned the bend, the great blue spread those wings and flew across the lake to safety.

Of course I followed....