It was here in my 'sitting locale' akin to a park bench but a mere set of boulders that created this bookend nestled near a mudflat, that I learned to appreciate my old friend; the killdeer. They would flitter about like sections of a crumpled newspaper blowing around the tall grass on one side.....they would offer courtship to each as the male would strut around with his tail up high....showing off of course. For what else does a good male do?
These were my friends. I would take my camera with me and capture a shot or two, or just let my eyes wander over the full scope of the mudflats, soft and oozing as footprints left a record of their travels. These friends of mine never cared much for me, as I said before....but matter not, no need.... for I knew of them as part of nature, as sure as the mudflats themselves or the algae that grew in little pools around. Yet strange enough I knew, we might possibly sit later on in other days, perhaps sharing an apartment and resting just quietly.