Friday, January 06, 2012

tell me i am not the only one watching





at twenty to eight in the morning i am scanning fields the color of brittle corn. there is no snow, yet i am searching for white; the white of feathers, the white of the owl that began its journey to me last spring and has yet to arrive. i wait and i scan and i drive. suddenly, there is white, a flash of wing, and i am swerving to the side of the road. it is not the owl, it is the hawk. the harrier hawk; the one that sweeps low over the color of brittle corn taunting the mice and the hares. she is exquisite and brief. she will not stay long. i watch and it matters not if i am late.

at three after five in the evening i am scanning the eastern sky. it is peach over blue, whispers and ripples of cloud covering a waxing moon. i can see in the mirror it is fire behind me, but i am driving east and the cars are coming fast and i have peach over blue. at last i am driving north and the fire is burning on my left. i am swerving to the side of the road, again. the sky is the rival of all biblical sunsets, bursting in yellow and that rose-peach-orange hue that has no name. the blinker ticks and the cars rumble by and i stare at the fire that changes by the second. i say thank you three times out loud.

there is no screen, flat or hand held, that can match the color of brittle corn or harness wind under a wing or wash the sky with fire. tell me i am not the only one watching.

4 comments:

  1. you are not the only one watching.
    you are not the only one watching.
    you are not the only one watching.
    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  2. you are not. there is something happening, and it feels like magic.

    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  3. Absolutely. Even this screen that I look at right now is a burden, when that is outside. It was gorgeous today too. Thanks for some beautiful shots.

    ReplyDelete

I always appreciate the time you take to comment on my blog. Thank you for stopping by. Peace from my heart to yours. xo, Graciel