7.21.2007,4:20 PM
Hawk Music
On my five acres of Texas high prairie is a swath of old gnarled oak trees along the east perimeter. It borders a narrow ravine and seasonal creek running through an extension of more acres with gnarled oaks and thick undergrowth. Amidst this wide section of undisturbed woodland lives a pair of great horned owls and red tailed hawks as well as deer, fox, and the obligatory skunks.

This spring heralded a nest full of baby hawks that are now learning to fly. I hear and occasionally see them travel from branch to branch with clumsy wings like baby colts trying to keep themselves upright on lanky unsure legs. Their vocalizations are shrill and piercing when they are pissed off at Mom for teasing them off their comfortable perches or singsong when they proudly float from one tree to the next without diving towards the ground.

This is why I don't turn on the TV or cell phone, why I live far off the road, and it is an example of why I pull off the roads when I travel on the bike, turn off the engine and get off the bike to walk and explore on my own two feet, to listen to the silence and all that surrounds me, and be amazed at the very fact that I am 'here'.


posted by Macrobe
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