This past week I have been making runs to my sister's cranberry bogs on the other side of Carver for aged manure. Anne and her husband own acres and acres of cranberry bogs and in one of the pits they have allowed horse owners to dump the manure from their horses. We have found that it is a fine source of nutrients to add to our New England sand to grow healthy plants in our gardens.
Early this morning at dawn, with this in mind, I donned my old sneakers, put the buckets and shovel in the car and called my trusty friend: "Hey, Tuck, do you want to go to the bogs?" He wags his tail excitely and hops into the Honda and off we go. He loves the bogs...he loves running around the old stumps Duffy cleared to make room for more bogs....he loves trying to catch bullfrogs in the newly created reservoir, and most importantly, he loves running free. You see, Carver has a lease law and for the most part, Tucker is on a lease when we go wandering.
As we enter the dirt road that leads to the bogs, it dawns on me that today is July 12 and so instead of driving straight down the runway that leads to the manure pile, I veer to the right and we head towards the old cedar swamp...for it is here that I might find something that will give comfort to an aching heart.
Sighting a blue heron will ease the pain and so together, Tuck and I make our way through the briars and underbrush and step into the swamp. Tuck is excited with all the new smells and gleefully glides over all the old stumps and fallen trees. I, on the other hand, sinking in the mud, find the terrain difficult...
Within seconds Tuck wants to investigate the old stump in the cedar swamp....perhaps a frog is sunning himself. Tuck loves the fine sport of froggin'...though he's never had much success...actually he's had no success...not one frog in three years. But Tuck is persistent ....
"Come on Tuck, we're not froggin' today...we are looking for a blue heron."
Tuck joins me as I walk the edge of the swamp. There's much debris and I climb over old stumps and fallen trees.
We continue walking till I see something in the distance on an island. "Tuck, we need to get out of the swamp. Hurry...!" I quickly step over some old logs and roots and make my way through the bushes walking as quiet as can be and follow the edge of the swamp as well as I can till I come to a large overhanging tree. I climb up...take my camera out of my pocket and start to shoot...
You can barely see him....he is wading in shallow water, eyes alert, in hopes of snatching a tasty morsel for breakfast.
I never saw a blue heron until ten years ago tomorrow...the day after my son Aaron died. Since then, I have seen them in many places...where ever I travel...be it Wellfleet...or Donegal, Ireland...or Heidleberg, Germany....or Bellingham, Washington...a blue heron is never far away. Maybe it's coincidence...maybe not...I like to think it's a message from a traveler saying "everything is fine, your job is to live".
Aaron with his Mom, Christmas, 1977.
Aaron in Camden, Maine in 1993 on his way to Outward Bound for a 28 day sailing trip.
Aaron at Gram's house, Christmas, 1995.
Aaron Mills Evans
April 26, 1975- July 12, 1997.
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Comments: 46
Maggie Ho dog is quite jealous, by the way...she only gets to romp around dry old desert mountaintops with rundown old buildings.
a wonderful tribute!
Thanks for sharing the pictures of your son. Blessings to you on a difficult day.
I saw a Great Blue Heron myself today; it was circling over Hanging Rock in the Norman Bird Sanctuary, looking to land in one of the ponds there. But it flew off without landing; I think it must have decided there was entirely too much human activity for comfort today!
Guyana, marianne,for keeping the vigil through the night, when my eyes could no longer focus and my mind needed to rest.
"Constant and true", you are so right, Lisa.
And for those of you who believe birds are messengers from our love ones, thank you.
Darcey D.
Early this morning again I was at the bogs, though I did not go swamping...Papa was with me and so we just shoveled manure...and one flew right overhead and landed in the reservoir near by. Papa was elated.
i was kayaking at our cottage last week - and saw 4 small green herons. so beautiful., i sat there for 30 min, watching them. hugs!
I'm so sorry for your loss, your grief must seem overwhelming at times. Just know, your son gives you the Blue Heron telling you it's alright.....and to live...you will see him again.
I felt totally lost in the unbearable pain when, two Doves landed on the railing beside me, no more than three feet away. They just sat there for a while then one flew away. The other one stayed for a long time then joined his companion in a tree before they both flew away.
I often see a lone dove and I wonder if it's purpose is to give me comfort. Weather the connection is real or imagined, there is a connection and it helps.
Your story was beautifully told. The weaving in of decay and death with life and freedom touched a cord.
On the day I learned of my husbands death I looked out a window and saw a large, gorgeous pheasant, walking slowly across a field not far from where I stood. I watched it transfixed and felt my husbands presence so sharply it was almost a physical sensation. I felt him in that bird. Then it seemed to disappear in the tall grass. I never saw that bird again.
paula....I think he did...guyana for stopping by.
A dear friend and busines partner passed away suddenly of a heart attack. She came to me in a dream a week or so later and hugged me and told me all was well. She has visited me several times in the 7 years since she passed. I know some would blow it off as me and wishful thinking but I don't care. It comforts me.
The pictures of Aaron are wonderful. They make him very real to those of us who didn't get to know him. Thank you elizabeth.