Monday, March 7, 2016

3.3.16 Hear the wind roar



Down along the farmer's fields it's serene and solitary and there is no election nor disagreements... and the wind roars these days right through the stands of trees. 
The ground is frozen but free of most ice, so I took this opportunity to begin running again , in that funny bumpy beginning again style that you might not call a jog, but I certainly will. 
So I was jogging and tossing the pup's ball and wondering what the hell I was doing out there in the swift cold til I looked above and there was one Eagje, and then a second, having a whole lot of courting fun, if you can imagine grave infatuation hundreds of feet in the air with huge powerful wings and what that would entail ...
And they had their fun til I guess they got hungry, so one headed over to the Alexandra Dawson trail on the Connecticut for a nice cold breakfast, while the other scanned the river on this side, flying past and overhead while I wished my poor camera was not broken , and the sun was hot on my face and these birds with their beautiful not-quite-Icarus wings.
And I was no longer cold at all.



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