Great Blue Heron triplets

The rain, what there was of it, finally departed, but the sun did not break through the heavy clouds to usher in what most of us around here see as the first weekend of summer. After writing most of the morning and taking care of my two youngest grandsons in the middle of the day, I opted, despite the glum weather, for a hike in the later part of the afternoon. It threatened a return to drizzle, so I stuffed lots of plastic bags in my backpack to protect the cameras and binoculars, then headed off to the nearby Henne Preserve for a quick reconnoiter. I was hoping to spot newly emerged dragonflies, but the weather wasn't conducive for invertebrate activity, so I had to content myself—poor me—with bird-watching, specifically, observing the biggest of the Great Blue Heron nests. A parent was standing tall and scanning the marsh, and as I focused in on the big bird, I noticed a lot of commotion at its feet. Three heads popped up, followed by three small bills, all open, all asking, "Where's dinner?" The parent seemed to counsel patience, as it preened nonchalantly and appeared to hope for a changing of the guard.