Herons in the 'burbs

Driving a school bus has its little pleasures, which do a lot to grease the wheels. Before "my" elementary school lets out in the afternoon, we drivers stage along a street out in front of the school, waiting for the signal to pull in and pick up our kids.

Adjacent to that street is a small pond which provides its share of those small treasures, even among the signs warning trespassers to not enjoy the view (okay, they actually tell them not to swim, boat, fish or ice skate, but the meaning is clear). It's a little oasis despite the prohibitions, a reminder that there is a world of beauty beyond the commonplace.

Occasionally gracing the pond is a great blue heron, patiently fishing the shallows, largely oblivious of the big yellow boxes parked just beyond the bank. They're my favorite bird, and it's a delight to watch this one stand motionless intently watching the water or slowing wading through the shallows stalking its prey. Watching it, one can readily shake free from the mundanity of the surrounding cookie cutter architecture and appreciate in microcosm the beauty of our remoter estuaries and rivers. Indeed, even in the midst of soulless suburbia, one can find a glimpse of that wildness Thoreau found to be the preservation of the world.