Why did this blue heron trade his royal standing in the bird kingdom for panhandling? Locals on the Gulf Coast island where he lives warned me about Harry, as they call him. And the moment I drew open the curtains in the second-floor room I rented, I was a sucker to his charms. From the branches of a tree, he swooped over onto my balcony and cocked his head as if to ask, “Breakfast?”
Chew on these seasoned bits of life for a little hope and humor along your highway.
JOIN ME ~ I’ll send brief, occasional posts to lighten your backpack. We're on this journey together.
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