Yesterday around 6 am,
the riverside path was for the most part empty of visitors, save the Great Blue
Heron, that watched the crew boats approach, until finally enough was enough,
and they took off, great graceful being that they are, and sailed away, far
over our heads.
Inside a wild vine, I spot two beings, waking up and having breakfast. The sun slowly seems to climb in the sky, as small overgrown places invite cool and quiet and comfort.
A moment after the Heron took flight on out of
there, the crew boats passed by, making their way up the river, against the
current, as the deep blue waters reflected the vast open skies of the new day.
We all find places that fit for us....the path
from our work to lunch, from library to car. From dog walk to home. Or where we
jog or walk or swim at day's end, to regain some ease in our lives.
We sit out, when we can fend off summer's mosquitoes, and just watch the sky go by.
Here, I was wandering down the river path, relishing the feel of blades of grass press into my feet. Hands in pockets, no purpose at all, letting difficult things come up and be with me, and then pass on by. Giving them time, and then resting in the day we have here.
Up ahead, I spot a dog and their person who
I've met up with before, romping about, laughing, affectionate, beginning their
day.
As I turned to go back, I spotted someone winged and large coming toward me. Flecked with color, not a Red Tail, nor a Broadwing Hawk, for certain.
i continued to watch, until I caught sight of the enormous wings, of the way in which they pulled on the air, gracefully moving the young body along.
It was then that I spotted the white white tail, and, aha. Juvenile Bald Eagle. Making their way from, possibly, the Eagle Sanctuary, due south.
Larger now, growing up all summer long, checking out the river and fields for something delicious for breakfast, for a fast growing body.
Over they flew, and then off, barely moving now, gliding with such power and economy.
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