Returning to a hot, humid, overcrowded dot on the map comprising some of the most uncivilized educated people on the planet can be depressing after spending time in a temperate, normal, civilized place with space to move about. It takes a while before I have any enthusiasm for putting my foot outside the door, even for chasing critters. This time, even a new Billingham on my doorstep the day after I returned didn’t provide a positive turning point for my attitude.
With the “acknowledged” temperature at 92F, probably around 100F in reality, I still managed to force myself outside for a park stroll this afternoon. After a while I realized that I was just walking, not even looking for my little friends, not a single shot on the card. Nearing a familiar wetland area, something whizzed by just a couple of meters in front of my eyes.
It was an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while, getting my attention. Yes, critters do remember faces. He perched on a branch about 12-15 meters away, and I clicked off a few shots. I quietly said my thanks, smiled, and waved to him and headed on my way. As I was about to enter another path, I turned back to look at my friend again. He was gone.
He’d done what he intended to do, though. Attitude improved, at least pointing upward again.