Herons in Amsterdam

I watch the old lady with her walker. She’s all in black, walking alongside a tall, older gentleman also all in black. They have something distinguished about them. They’re slowly walking towards me, the lady focused on her walking, the gentleman looking around as if everything is new to him. I push myself into the bushes so they can pass me on the small sidewalk and shyly, I greet them. The man’s eyes cross mine and he turns to the lady. “Another one,” he tells her, as if this is unexpected. Behind them I see a heron stalking the waterside.