Hundreds of people walk by them and don’t see them.

The yellow-crowned night herons--big birds two feet long perched in trees along the creek--eye-level, not even ten feet away from the people walking, jogging, and biking along the hike-bike trail. The herons have quite fancy plumage on their heads. I stand agog to see them so very close, some with their heads tucked under their wings, catching their daytime z’s. Then I watch the people, perhaps intent on weight loss and heart health and what’s for supper and the project at work. Do they not see these grand birds? Or are the birds of little interest? I don’t see any eyes even drifting their way.

I guess the herons count on that anonymity. Assures their safety as they rest.

And though some days I see the night herons, who knows what it is that I do not see? What are my blind spots?

Then, there is what is so plentiful, we do not pay heed. Water we drink. Mom. Electricity. Shoes. Spouse. The intake of breath. Light.