Changing the path you are on
When I was at the Can, it made sense to walk around the bayou in the morning, but now that I am in the LaLa and adjusting to my foot recovery, I’ve changed my path and oh, what a difference to me. The past two mornings, I’ve been walking across the Magnolia Bridge and then circling back on the Esplanade Bridge to enter City Park. Recently, someone donated 7 swans – 2 blacks ones – to the park and the black one has been illusive. As a matter of fact, G wondered, maybe they’re not really black it’s the eyes that are black.
This morning, Arlene and I first came across the Anhinga in the tree drying its wings (there is still debate on whether these are Comorants). He was there yesterday. Then we saw the white swans grooming themselves on the bank of the lagoon. Then the white (because he’s immature) Little Blue Heron flew off the banks. As we circled around there was a Black Crowned Night Heron nestled in a dead tree, the poof of his crown bobbing up and down in the slight wind. He’s blue though, but his marking are more of the Crowned than the Blue Heron.
And then, as we were coming across the bridge to the other side of the lagoon, where the massive oaks spread their thick drooping branches across the walking path and grass, moss hanging like a stage set, there stood the illusive black swan in all its regalia.
When I got back to the LaLa, Ms. Marie was in front and she said, as she has said before, where else can you live in a place like this, and I smiled. She’s been here 93 years and feels that way. Bodes well.