The circle of life.

As I left my house this morning, a slight rustle caused me to glance toward my neighbor's yard. There on the roof, only twenty feet from me, was a Great Blue Heron. It's feathers were a deep, dark blue, and the magnificent bird watched me with a cocked head as I watched him. His long neck and prehistoric size made him seem almost personable.

After a few moments of our mutual observation had passed, my feathered friend spread his giant wings and lifted into the air. He flew slowly and deliberately over rooftops and out of sight. I climbed into my car and pulled away.

Oh, I was elated. It is uncommon to see such wildlife in the middle of the city. For a moment I could almost picture the marshy land that must have spread through the area before the houses were built. The heron was like a shadow from another time.

About seven hours later it hit me.

My fish.

The three fish that normally flit around my pond have been missing in action for nearly a week. I had assumed that the murky water and cooler weather had just mellowed them out. Maybe their appetites had decreased? But now I see the reality.

My heron friend was a predator. My bright orange fish were easy prey.

Oh Hank, Peggy and little Bobby, you were good fish. You brought joy to my summer afternoons. I laughed at your fishy antics, and you swam around in circles again and again. I'll miss you.

Beautiful, cruel life.