The grey heron is back, on the crest of the hill, just after the rain. This makes me so happy, as though the world was forgiving our gas-guzzling stupidity, just a tiny bit.

I know a wildlife biologist would explain it’s because the rain brings out what they like to eat.

And I know rain is the important factor. I haven’t seen one since the last time it rained. Welcome back, pointy-beaked friend, who eats unfortunate gophers. On the other hand, the rain finally returning feels like forgiveness too, so possibly both are correct.

Is it too early for the frogs to return after the apocalyptic drought? I don’t hear them in the creek yet.