On the other side of the path, yarrow blooms nodded in synchronized motion with the chirping crickets. I wonder if the other walkers think I’m daft? I'm surrounded by incredible beauty, yet I’m wobbling down the path buried in my phone, texting what's streaming out of my head.

Walking around the bend in the path, I wasn’t happy about the humid heat enveloping me. I’d started my walk early that morning to avoid it. Now I was facing into the sun, its rays piercing my skin. As I grow older, my skin, especially my forearms, breaks out in itchy red bumps. It wasn’t even mid-summer yet, I mused, as my mind wandered back in time. 

For such a small bird, it had given me a profound personal insight. The flicker's message was timely and one I couldn't ignore.

... the point is to bring ourselves back to the moment, back to the present, and away from all the bustle, thinking, and planning.

I was eager to find out what these ancient ones would say. It wasn't the adventure I thought it would be, but the trees did say something.

I've been there before, before I knew trees could communicate with each other and before I understood what these giants were.

I couldn't resist making comparisons. Two species of birds were in a tree. Two very different presidential hopefuls were standing in a room.

Humans and herons are both motivated to do what we need to do to survive. Consider how being in the pond together is significant to both.