In the midst of all the lavaflow of current capitalist flameout, Nancy and I retreated for a walk up the hill to where the great blue herons have been nesting for years. The newborns now stand three feet tall in deep nests of thick dead branches. The elders come and go .
Next to our little 1897 cottage is a huge 150 year old Monterey cypress tree and these herons seem to use her as some sort of fulcrum. They fly on one side while going down to feed at the estero and back to their nest on the other side. As we sit on our backporch at dusk with a bottle of wine, we notice their neighborhood orbit.
