Blue Heron Landing

Art by Rebecca J. Hartman

For several mornings last week, two or three at least, a great blue heron landed in the center of five tall trees across the lake. I had never seen this graceful bird land in these trees before, and, more curiously, the blue heron’s landing occurred at sunrise, almost exactly at 7:00 a.m. each morning. The bird stood in the middle tree, visible and facing east.

In many traditions, including Celtic and Native American lore, blue herons are valued as messengers, bringing wisdom, patience, and divine connection, and I took the positive symbolism surrounding the bird, not with total seriousness, but with some hope since I have a few major decisions to make myself, and more importantly, our country is at a crossroads. I have been looking for, asking for, a sign of renewal and hope.

Yesterday the heron did not come. I passed the 7:00 a.m. landing time, and half an hour more, with disappointment.

I am a great believer in the power of harmony and justice to reach a tipping point when more people are sending good works and fairness into the universe than those who have cruel or destructive intentions. My friend Elizabeth says it this way: “As I shift, so does the world.”

And what if decisions or results spin out of control, and circumstances prove to be crushing to prosperity or balance or even survival? Must we move away, run away, to cope with chaos?

“No,” Elizabeth says, if the unfortunate or unthinkable happens, “I don’t think you move; you stand.” And in that standing, something “of deep grace” happens.

So…despite the results of our personal decisions or the decisions that face our country, we stand on principles that eventually move the tipping point toward evolution and joy and goodness?

“We are here to do our part,” Elizabeth says.

This morning the heron came again, but this time, it was not the same heron. It was younger, smaller—newer, if you will—as if a change had come, and it was good. 

Maybe this is not what any of this means at all. Maybe these are herons coming to fish and facing the sun to wait, but the lesson I take is this: We are each here to do our part. We are showing up and facing the light…and we are being the light.