At one of the places where I work, there's this big artificial lake behind the building. It's always been kind of annoying to me in its juxtaposition with a large, corporate building. There's a few ducks that live there, and a few other birds that fly in and hang out.
I get a break halfway through my shift, and a few nights ago, I sat in my car and stared at the lake. There were a lot of dragonflies, flitting around, skirting the edge of the water and fighting or fucking each other. I liked their big eyes and delicate, strong wings. I was almost late getting back to work I'd enjoyed watching them so much.
Tonight, I sat down on the edge of the lake during my break to watch the dragonflies up close. It's only twenty minutes, but I'm finding that I don't have many twenty minute blocks to myself these days. Taking that time required a little commitment to escaping from all the people who need me, to turning off my phone, to stepping away from the computer, and it did my mind a world of good.
A big, blue heron-y kind of bird came flying in across the lake. It was sort of gawky in that long-necked bird way, but also sort of elegant. It settled in a spot beneath trees and stood on one leg, moving up and down every now and then. Its head moved around, side to side, and it stared at the water. After a while, it spread its long, strong wings and flew off. A storm was coming. I wonder where it was going.
That bird was a messenger to me. I can't articulate what his message was, but I felt better for watching him for a while. Isn't that odd?
