I have an ongoing partnership with this egret.
It started one day when I was out walking around the pond during lunch. I had brought a little bread for the ducks and ibis but, unexpectedly, a large white bird flew over and approached me.
I was flattered. I threw a few bread scraps his way. He picked at them rather critically but left them uneaten. I tried with a few more crumbs, but met with more of the same from the egret.
"Hey," I said, "If you don't want these, I'm tossing them in for the fish." No response.
I threw what was crumbled in my hand into the pond.
This was apparently was exactly what the egret was waiting for. The little brim in the pond rose up to the surface for the bread and the bird swooped down for a fish.
I think we caught two rather sizeable fish that day. Now, when I walk at lunch, this same egret will fly over to meet me as I approach the far end of the pond. Some times we do well, some times not. My friend is always the epitome of patience and perseverance, ignoring my ongoing commentary on the success or failure of his efforts. With no fear of a possible fish-less future, he focuses intently only on the next meal to come.
Consider the lilies of the field, right? God will provide.
Sometimes the fish, sometimes the bait.
It started one day when I was out walking around the pond during lunch. I had brought a little bread for the ducks and ibis but, unexpectedly, a large white bird flew over and approached me.
I was flattered. I threw a few bread scraps his way. He picked at them rather critically but left them uneaten. I tried with a few more crumbs, but met with more of the same from the egret.
"Hey," I said, "If you don't want these, I'm tossing them in for the fish." No response.
I threw what was crumbled in my hand into the pond.
This was apparently was exactly what the egret was waiting for. The little brim in the pond rose up to the surface for the bread and the bird swooped down for a fish.
I think we caught two rather sizeable fish that day. Now, when I walk at lunch, this same egret will fly over to meet me as I approach the far end of the pond. Some times we do well, some times not. My friend is always the epitome of patience and perseverance, ignoring my ongoing commentary on the success or failure of his efforts. With no fear of a possible fish-less future, he focuses intently only on the next meal to come.
Consider the lilies of the field, right? God will provide.
Sometimes the fish, sometimes the bait.
