BLUE VICTORY

Blue, Blue, Blue...

The gray dusk was turning into shades of darker gray, blue, darker blue, nearly black. I was having a bit of a respite, sitting in one of our outdoor swivel rockers. As I sat, I watched the kittens catch make believe mice, or perhaps grasshoppers, given the way they were jumping about. The dogs were alternating between running around and chewing on a bit of leather chewy bone. I was enjoying just watching everyone. Our young Doberman, Katie, much like an adolescent child, was enjoying every last minute she could squeeze out of the remainder of the day.

As I flick my attention from one critter to the other, I slowly realize there is another presence. It was a real pleasure to note his stately appearance as he settled in for the night... for numerous reasons.

First, it showed growth for me. That I was able to sit and do NOTHING for a few minutes... often I've learned much in the nothing times of life. Here again, after a flurry of "stuff" I am finally still. And I learn. I am reminded of the verse, "Be still and know that I am God..." It is during those times when we can be nothing, do nothing, think nothing, that we can really focus on God's greatness.

Second, I realize I am seeing again, sometimes we forget how to see especially when we are so busy looking. Just stop and feel. It is then that we can see....that's how I noticed....him.

There he was, fluffing his night attire, sitting on a dead yet lofty branch, and watching us...
Wasn't it just a few months ago, that we would hear our dog, Roo, decidedly warning us of some imminent danger about this time in the evening? As we sought to investigate, we would hear a whole dialogue of disgruntled bird words, about being disturbed. But we saw nothing as the great bird settled for the night and decidedly protested the rantings of a yapping dog. On this went night after night...

The Great Blue Heron would just get comfy, and Roo would notice him with barking protests outrage over anyone not being in his "proper" place. We would investigate, and Mr. Heron would very loudly object to the disturbance (herons, by the way, posess rather loud, squawky, and mangled sounding objections).

When did we become accustomed to one another? When did we adjust to each other? I can't rightly remember, but tonight as I sat and was still, I noticed....

A quiet, Blue Victory.

Well, he was a blue heron after all, so most assuredly the victory was his. Thus victory must have been blue.