We walk the dog every morning and our walks take us past some of the drainage ponds that dot our little subdivided corner of the world. The pond in question - the pond that inspired this poem - is affectionately called "The Duck Pond" by my wife and me. Because last Fall we saw a number of ducks congregating there, I mean, it's pretty simple. Anyway, while walking the dog one morning recently I noticed a big white heron (egret? I think this was a heron, for the purposes of the poem it was a heron, but you can check the photo for yourself: https://lefthandrob.tumblr.com/post/655522651118403584) hanging out in the pond. Given the morning light and the fullness of the pond from recent rain, this was too good a photo opportunity to pass up. Of course as I crested the hill between myself and the pond I soon realized that there was not 1 but three herons (egrets?) hanging out. And a mother duck with her ducklings going for a swim. And thus the photo linked above was born. And thus this week's poem was inspired as I meditated on how damn peaceful the whole scene was, even though there's construction happening a hundred yards away from this bucolic vista.
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