Roger and I are in severe self-editing mode. It's very hard for any words to make the cut. Each idea is slashed with giant red pens of "who cares about that?"
Lately all the birds have been far away. Too far for even a 12X optical zoom to capture with any clarity. I fool around with the 48 digital, and the results are not impressive. Still, I think they say something about the moment. The meadows are vast. The birds hug the tree line. We are small in the world. There's a hovering White-tailed Kite in the above photo. Do you see it? Roger says the meadows aren't too big for our eyes to see the kite hover or the red-tails sailing in the vast expanse. Only too big for our technology.
We've been hiking the 640-acre
Pogonip. There are places where I half expect a mountain lion to leap from its hiding place on the limbs of snarly old oak. A jogger runs by us, and I think, "Oh good, there's the prey. Prey always runs." I walk on slowly feeling much safer. Twice in the past two weeks, young mountain lions have been found in our local vicinity. One dead by the creek, one killed in a backyard after it took a chihuahua up into a tree.
Our true neighbor the Red-shouldered hawk came by the other day. His fierceness seems belied by the soft feathers lightly fanned in the afternoon breeze. Reminding us to keep the wind at our backs.
Lately all the birds have been far away. Too far for even a 12X optical zoom to capture with any clarity. I fool around with the 48 digital, and the results are not impressive. Still, I think they say something about the moment. The meadows are vast. The birds hug the tree line. We are small in the world. There's a hovering White-tailed Kite in the above photo. Do you see it? Roger says the meadows aren't too big for our eyes to see the kite hover or the red-tails sailing in the vast expanse. Only too big for our technology.
We've been hiking the 640-acre Pogonip. There are places where I half expect a mountain lion to leap from its hiding place on the limbs of snarly old oak. A jogger runs by us, and I think, "Oh good, there's the prey. Prey always runs." I walk on slowly feeling much safer. Twice in the past two weeks, young mountain lions have been found in our local vicinity. One dead by the creek, one killed in a backyard after it took a chihuahua up into a tree.
Our true neighbor the Red-shouldered hawk came by the other day. His fierceness seems belied by the soft feathers lightly fanned in the afternoon breeze. Reminding us to keep the wind at our backs.
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