Between the Park and the Dealership
Sometimes the best places aren’t destinations at all. I wasn’t looking for birds. I was on my way to the dealership because my car was in the shop. I almost left my camera at home, but something told me to throw it over my shoulder just in case. That little decision turned an ordinary walk into one of the best afternoons I’ve had in a long time.
I’ve driven past this ditch more times than I can count. To me, it was just a canal beside the road. But walking today instead of driving changed everything. Suddenly I noticed movement in the grass, the reflections in the water, the purple pickerelweed blooming along the bank…and then, standing there like it belonged all along, was a Roseate Spoonbill.
The farther I walked, the ditch came alive. Snowy Egret hunted along the edge, a Great Blue Heron stretched its enormous wings into flight, and a tricolored Heron stood motionless in the shallow water as if it had been waiting there all morning. Even the pickerelweed had begun to bloom, adding little touches of purple among all the green.
The silence was broken by a sudden, rhythmic thrumming as the Great Blue Heron prepared to leave. It hadn't been bothered by my presence at first, but with a powerful downward stroke, it launched itself from the mud. Watching those enormous wings unfold against the sky was breathtaking; for a few seconds, it seemed as though the entire landscape was being pulled upward along with it. It’s a rare thing to catch that transition from stillness to flight, but there it was—pure, effortless grace rising above the water.
I have been scanning area banks for months, always hoping for a flash of that unmistakable, vibrant pink. When I finally spotted the Roseate Spoonbill, it felt as though the whole ditch had been holding its breath for me. It waded through the shallow water with such focus, its unique, spoon-shaped bill sweeping the surface in rhythmic, side-to-side arcs. Standing there in the soft light, it looked like a dream I had finally managed to capture, a brilliant splash of color in a world of greens and browns.
The Snowy Egret is a master of patient, precise movement. While the rest of the ditch felt chaotic with activity, this little bird hunted with deliberate, calculated steps along the muddy edge. Every time it paused, its bright yellow feet—so stark against the dark water—seemed to glow. It moved with such poise, perfectly blending into the quiet corners of the bank, and for a long while, I simply watched, mesmerized by how beautifully it commanded the space around it.
It’s funny how often life works that way. If my car hadn’t been in the shop, I would have driven right past this place without ever knowing what lived there.
Sometimes slowing down isn’t our choice.
Sometimes life makes the choice for us.
And every now and then we’re rewarded for it.
Until next time…
Every walk leaves me with something to remember.
Sometimes it’s a bird.
Sometimes it’s a quiet trail.
Sometimes it’s simply an hour spent outside.
Either way, I’ll be back.
—Sandra
Find something beautiful in the world every single day.
— Always Creekside