A fair to middling morning, some sun, some clouds, white and building up to gray, flashes of sun. Yesterday, later in the morning, a hawk was circling just over the trees. I would not have noticed it if it hadn't been for its shrill screaming, thin and far away, yet the little sparrow birds or finches, which had been peeping in the crepe myrtle tree flew as a flock into cane. All the birds vanished until the hawk was out of range, or at least far enough away you could not hear him. Slowly, they filtered back, a few at a time. This morning, they are once again fluttering from twig to twig in the trees and the ligustrum bush just outside the window. They don't make song so much as they sound like a very tiny flock of baby chicks.
The sparrows gather nearby...
The sparrows gather nearby,
their anxious heads jerking
every which way.
Someone has taught them
to bring their hunger here,
without quieting their terror
of everything that moves.
And so, having little choice,
they land on the awful perch:
at their feet, all the food in the world,
and just beyond, all the teeth.
David Harris Ebenbach
When I was looking for the poem, this one made me see the hawk from the perspective of the sparrow, though I pretty much got the idea yesterday when they all flew like arrows into the cane. I just didn't think of that state of mind as so persistent and maybe it isn't, maybe that's just our point of view. Still, it makes you think of how precarious the world can seem and not just to sparrows!
Mikayla wants to wash her car this morning, but I think perhaps it's going to rain. Still it may just blow over and leave her with lovely sun and a good morning to make a clean and tidy car!
This morning, may the hawks of your life be far away, and the sun shine on your morning so you can do what needs to be done!
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