The old man is lonely.

The old man sat in a rocking chair on the porch of his old wooden home in the Everglades.  The stagnant smell of the swamp in the air was only matched by the bourbon on his breath.  The man picked up his banjo and attempted to tune the rusted strings.  As his fingers plucked expertly, a Great Blue Heron flew down and rested on the reeds near the old man's feet.  The bird seemed to listen intently for a couple minutes, and the old man cracked a smile.  This was his best audience in years.  Abruptly, one of the banjo's strings broke.  The clanging sound startled the heron, and he up and flew away.  The old man sighed and put down his banjo.  He stood up slowly, and walked inside of his home to a framed picture on his living room wall.  Tears welled up in his eyes as he remembered his estranged bride.