28 January 2008

The Here And Now

Coyotes usually don’t howl at 10 o’clock in the morning. That’s what made me turn to the east.
I was standing outside with the sun on my back trying to get warm, and the coyotes sounded way far away, but definitely to the east. I wasn’t concerned.
I noticed how the hazy day had set back the tree-covered mountains. The gray-green digger pines looked like they were floating in a sea of atmosphere.
The local golden eagle flew ovals back and forth against the steep greening hill and disappeared and reappeared through the pines.
My eyes, now shaded with my hand, followed the eagle for as long as I could see him. When he disappeared one last time, I waited a bit and then looked straight overhead at the wispy clouds.
It was a cool morning. My hands, in particular, were having a hard time warming up.
But the sun felt good, and I thought, no time like now.
I know it’s popular to be “too busy" and want more hours in the day to “accomplish things,” but I think some moments deserve to stand alone. Like right now.
The coyote stopped singing, and all I could hear was the little birds hiding in the tumbleweed.
“Chip, chip,” they said to each other, probably leery of a human standing so close to their hangout.
“Don’t worry,” I replied. “I’m not going to eat you.”
They all flew out in one motion and headed for the very top of the tree.
“Alright,” I said. “Don’t believe me.”
Although I could sense that they did believe me. They just wanted to make themselves comfortable.
I can understand that. Yesterday they weren’t comfortable at all.
We've been having a bit of rain, and it felt like twilight all day long. It was a weird day.
I was standing in the laundry room staring out the window lost in thought when I noticed a Cooper hawk hopping around on the ground underneath the tumbleweeds.
I presume he was hunting either rabbit or little birds, although I couldn’t say for sure. I definitely have never seen a hawk pursue its prey on foot.
I stood there for a long time watching the bunnies alternatively freak out by running around in circles, or stop and remain motionless.
The little birdies were making a racket, but staying put. I thought they would head for the tall tree, but maybe they felt safer in the dense bush.
I didn’t see the hawk catch anything that day, but I think he must have found something to eat at one time. He keeps coming back.
The little birds have to stick together, and bunnies have to multiply. If the coyotes want to sing in the daylight, then that’s okay by me.
We all have to make ourselves comfortable. Because all we have is now.

1 comment:

  1. How wonderful to live around so much nature! Taking note of it is medicinal (sp?) I think.


Thanks for sharing!