Do Egrets Have Regrets?

On out door decks there are diners,

Where those diners snatch dinners

And with what they sometimes behold

They do not have to be told

How special life is midst these sights and sounds.

Sure servers can often swoop in like egrets

Who waiting quietly’ve clucked, sighed and shuddered

Knowing it’s time they plucked remnants of dinners from diners

And, yes at times this must include toast yet unbuttered.

For lined up outside are more who will feast without regrets.

While delectable toast covered in jam just to sweeten

Might be snatched away before it can be eaten.

Imagine outdoor dining, when a real egret swoops in—

Snatching away your last morsels—and helps keep you thin.

Whilst you marvel at sights and unstopped-for things,

Like this creature, the egret, with wondered-at wings,

Yes, with all this included in the price of a dinner,

You can once again see on this trip you’re the winner.

As you leave with wonder about egrets and surely not regrets. 

Light and Water

There is a lagoon behind my house.  It's home to several alligators, but this year they have made themselves scarce.  I went looking for them this morning, and it was like one of those painted landscapes with a reflecting pool.  The water was perfectly still, and everything across the water was reflected in the water between.  Nothing moved in the water, and the water itself, a kind of dull brown, showed the trees, the grass and the sky without distorting the colors.  The mirror image was just that.  

It was the second unusual water scene in two days.  Last night we walked the beach around sunset.  The sun had set away from the ocean, leaving shadows and dark sand.  The water, in contrast, stayed light, holding the reflected light even with the sun away behind the trees.  In this case, the water was not reflecting an image.  Instead it clung to the light, or the light clung to it.  So the darkening sand sat alongside the bright water, a reversal after a long day of the sand showing bright in the sun while the deep green and blue of the ocean absorbed it.       

Something similar happens in the morning.  The water notices the light first and glows with a light that seems to come from within it.  As the sun makes its appearance, the water darkens to its deep blue green for another day.    

How does the water change itself?  It uses the light, the same light that surrounds us all day, making it possible for us to see what is around us.  The light leaves us at night, and, as it comes and goes, the water is the first to receive it and the last to let it go. 

Between the time the light arrives and departs, the water offers us a true reflection.