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Usually, writing these blogs comes easily. But this time, my mind was blank.
So I raised the lack of a topic during morning meditation.
Afterward, half-caf latte in hand from Duck’s Cottage, Jake the Wonderdog and I set off for our usual boardwalk stroll. I was half-listening to an astrology podcast that kept cutting out, the signal fading in and out with the wind.
Irritated, I stopped to check my phone. When I looked up, I saw them —two white herons perched gracefully on a railing, still and luminous in the morning light.
I instinctively tightened my grip on Jake’s leash and quietly slipped onto a nearby bench.
Surprisingly, the herons stayed put.
For several minutes, I watched as they turned their heads, surveying the world — left, right, left again. I looked up the meaning of the heron as a spirit animal: patience, self-reliance, wisdom, and calm determination. Trusting your own rhythm.
Because they were white, they could also symbolize the crown chakra — connection to something greater.
After about five minutes, a man appeared walking toward us with a dog that looked a bit like Jake — only this one had head-to-toe white fur. We exchanged smiles, both silently hoping our dogs would stay quiet so as not to startle the birds.
We made small talk, including dog names. His was named Enzo (which I would later learn means “ruler of the home” or “winner”).
We stood there together, watching the herons in companionable silence. After a few minutes, Enzo began to fidget. I loosened my grip on the moment and told them to go ahead — we’d already been gifted by the scene long enough.
As soon as Enzo stepped forward, the herons lifted off, and suddenly, an entire flock of white feathers rose from the water below. It was so graceful it appeared choreographed, sunlight flashing off wings, as if they were feathered angels.
And because we hadn’t caused the disturbance, Jake and I witnessed the dance from start to finale: a duet of herons navigating southward, smaller and smaller, until the mist swallowed them.
Later, I thought about the herons, the meditation, and the name Enzo. Was this missive about chasing inspiration? Or holding still to receive it?
Perhaps it was about trusting life’s rhythm, knowing when to pause and when to move forward.
After all, we can’t rule the world around us, but we can
rule the home within us — by staying steady, open, and willing to let life unfold in its own time. No matter the disappointment.
Or maybe the message was this simple:
I’m still here.
Keep going.
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