Watching birds

This is a follow-up on the last entry. As we stood around waiting for the tram yesterday I saw a large heron fly over the park and off toward the mountains. It reminded me of the tour I did to Ventana cave and the Children's Shrine for the Arizona Archaeological and Historical Society about nine years ago.

As I am driving into the village of Santa Rosa, approaching the Children's Shrine there was a great blue heron standing in the middle of the road. It was simultaneously both incongruous and synchronised. We were in the middle of the Sonoran desert but we were there to visit the most sacred water site known to the O'odham.

I am not a person who goes anywhere to watch birds -- I just watch birds wherever I go. Taking this theme a little farther some years ago I was on my way down Speedway and saw a large bird flying high over the city traveling NW to SE. I immediately swerved across two lanes, and made a U-turn to try and follow the bird for as long as I could to try and ID it. I was hoping it was an eagle but eventually I figured out by the slow wing beat and general body shape it was a water bird -- a heron, again. Having discovered parts of Tucson neighborhoods I had never visited before and pissed off enough other drivers I resumed my original trek.

As Dr. Bil Hawkins would have said, "This AADD moment has been brought to you by . . ."