No, seriously. With this weekend being the last gasp of summer (spiritually speaking – summer has devoured both spring and autumn in the Mid-Atlantic thanks to climate change) I went out to the Seneca Creek to take some photographs. I shouldn’t have been surprised there were people out enjoying the creek – it flows into the Potomac and folks have been quite dedicated to keeping it clean, making it a popular swimming spot. They’ve even arranged the stones so they make a tube-run through the center.
I didn’t expect this feathered resident to hang around.
They’re long-legged (I caught him mid scratch) but I’m unsure if they are a heron or something else entirely. I hope to have better pictures up soon. If you can identify them, let me know!
This reminds me of when I was young. I would leave the house and travel down creeks and through woods. I’d hope to find an abandoned house or weird standing stone. Any sign of a stranger, more liminal world. Alas, the world works very hard to remove these places. It’s like all the arguments about ‘default narrative’ brought to life. The default narrative holds that these spaces – places where birds and imaginations can grow – are really just valuable land waiting for development. I felt it when growing up. The weight of development – rails to trails – because the old STAND BY ME style adventures were too dangerous now.
But, now and again, it sneaks through. Folks of all ages, and colors, end up tubing down the rapids and stopping to say “Hey, check out that bird. Why’s he just standing there?”
Why indeed. Maybe there’s a story.
Biomechanoid Blues 