By Linda Abbott Trapp, PhD
He surprised me, quietly strolling among the things we call weeds, but that he probably thinks of as a grocery shop. I was out on my morning walk, enjoying that the rain had ended and there he was, just leisurely looking for a snack in the open field I pass every day. I was thinking about duties; bills, an upcoming book club meeting, some half-finished writing, and, oh yes, cleaning. I wasn't paying attention to the wonders of here and now. And he came so close, so unafraid, just looking for a snack in the brush, not at all concerned that he was walking where a sidewalk would be if not for the undeveloped field. Instantly, I fell in love. His features so striking, that blue and white plumage and those long legs. His concentration, arresting. Overcome by his self-assurance and beauty, I wanted the moment to last, and surprisingly, it did. He slowly strolled the length of the field, as I copied his steps on the roadway. We moved in unison, a dance. Then he turned deeper into the field, and, still walking slowly, remaining unperturbed. I motioned to a couple of other walkers to take a look. Each face lit up with the simple and amazing joy of nature brought close. It was so pure.
But despite being lost in nature, I noticed the sun was high in the sky. I remembered that work was calling. I reluctantly finished the walk, accepting that it was time to go but wondering the whole time if the Heron would still be there later when we usually walked our dog. My husband would love to see this, as he's long been interested in birds, feeds a number of them daily, watching them from a distance for hours. Hoping that this was something I could share with him, too.
Later that day, we returned to the road next to the open field, my husband and Golden Retriever in tow. I was concerned that the Heron had moved on. Imagine my surprise and relief when I saw the Blue Heron peacefully perusing the goodies available after a rain. We watched him. The dog (blessedly) ignored the bird to explore elsewhere. My husband was just as enamored as I had been earlier, a barely contained excitement. We signaled to another couple, and also to a lone man walking on the other side of the road, and they all smiled in appreciation. What an uncommon wonder, what a treat! We tried to communicate the wonder of the moment, but they failed to pause more than a moment. Perhaps they were not as affected as we had been, or just too busy. It was clear that no one else was as affected as we. We stayed until life again came calling..
Recently, my daughter, her young son, and I drove to the coast to visit sealions during their annual trek to the coast for breeding and birthing of young. Cody, a typical pre-teen, acted bored during the drive and kept his head in his new phone, ignoring the landscape and the surf as we approached. We got out of the car, my daughter and I well ahead, as he didn't want to look like he was with adults, or was interested. Suddenly we heard a loud exclamation. “What the heck is THAT?” as he noticed the two-ton beach visitors. He was struck still for a moment, impressed with both the size of the sea lions, and the racket they were making. His mom pointed out the babies, and he watched them closely for several minutes. He seemed to move from excitement to a studious study of the giants, them back to excitement and, although he probably would not admit it, awe.
There are precious few moments that can deliver excitement, awe, education, and celebration of our world. Precious few, that is, unless you make time for this connection. It just might change your mood, your understanding, and perhaps your life.
Dr. Trapp is a retired educator and counselor, as well as an active artist. She has held numerous faculty and administrative positions, most recently as Dean of Students and Associate Professor at the California School of Professional Psychology in Fresno. She owned the management consulting firm Abbott & Associates and personally delivered in excess over 3300 workshops, speeches, retreats and coaching sessions for business, academic, and governmental leaders over an 18-year period. Born in upstate New York, she has lived and worked in many states, as well as in Mexico, Ethiopia, and Russia. Her published books include: Fresno, Valley of Abundance, Letters to my Granddaughters, Intentional Living, and most recently, Peace Be With You, with Garrett Andrew, as well as over 200 published articles in the fields of psychology, business, and travel. Her Doctorate is from Iowa State University. She is a prize e- winning watercolor artist, has four grown children, and currently lives in California with her husband and their pets.
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