Luck, Hope, and the End of the Trail

Last Saturday, I set off for Chickahominy Riverfront Park

in search of my own moment of serenity. 

And I discovered some absolutely bucolic, restful landscapes,

some obstacles in my path,

and some breathtaking waterviews--

the kind that makes one feel a small, 

bubbling sense of happiness at being alive in nature. 

I would say "joy," but I'm at heart a pessimist,

so I don't want to confirm that I felt joy just yet,

but it was close, very close.

But here's what I can confirm: 

when I looked at this next scene, 

I noticed something in the distance along the shore line--

a few white dots, virtually invisible in this photo:

I counted one, two, three, four ... seven white egrets

all in an evenly spaced row:

Seven is supposed to be a very lucky number

although I don't know if the sighting was really fortuitous.

Perhaps seeing seven white birds resting in a row does bring one good luck,

but the timing of this symmetry was one of those things 

that made me stop and marvel at the balance nature offers.

I turned to walk back up the bluff and saw these cypress knees along the river bank:

And here among them, growing persistently,

was this hopeful green seedling:

I could see autumn at its edges, 

but it exuded a sense of springtime optimism, 

popping up among the barren knees as it had.

I'm sure it expects to be a tall tree someday.

I hope it makes it.

I climbed to the bluff and took one last look:

 Very tranquil.
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