Earlier this year, I found myself taking a last minute flight to Florida to help someone in need. It was a stressful time for all involved but the weight of the circumstances was countered by the beauty of the surroundings, the pleasantness of the climate and the freedom and peacefulness in being out of my routine and out of the reach of many expectations at home. While there, I took walks on my breaks and conference calls on these walks and rediscovered my ability to happily juggle things that I truly value. Along one of these walks, I encountered this solitary Heron. I first encountered him on a beautiful evening walk. He appeared to be guarding the dock he was perched on. Something about his stillness, told me not to bother him, and to keep my distance. He was as still as the lamp post lighting the path to the end of the dock. He appeared restrained and on guard; on defense, trying to go unnoticed so no one would engage with him. A bit like I had become over the past two decades. Primarily a stay-at-home mom, working part-time with family, over this time period, I became a bit of a solitary bird. The next day, my break came earlier in the day, just after lunch. I had a chance to swim and walk back along the same path I had traversed the night before. Sure enough, I had my second encounter with my feather friend. This time, he was walking along the paths edge, within 3 feet of passersby. He had a more social posture in his closer proximity. As I came up upon him, he jumped into the air and spread his wings wide and showed that he was no inanimate, stiff lamppost, like the night before, but he was a beautiful bird, meant to fly and soar when fully expressed.