On my morning walk I am alone at the refuge and I hear two birds in the dim light that I can’t seem to identify. One has just the sweetest song. I love living in a world where I can be surprised by new sounds almost every day. Isn’t that just a miracle?
The geese, by the thousands, are in the flooded fields. The eagles are once again building onto their nest by the barns and they are a marvel to watch. I saw a beautiful red-tail hawk and further in the distance, a red-shoulder hawk. I’ve never seen one before. Another miracle. The light this early is, well … precious. It was 52° when I arrived. Oddly warm for late November.
Even as the color begins to drain from the sky it is a stunning reminder of how lucky I am to be here. I walked by a pile of feathers and bone on the estuary trail from a bird that did not survive the dawn. Nature is both cruel and beautiful. A little bit like life itself.
That was exactly how it felt. I pretty much had the place to myself early so it was quite meditative. It’s all about the breath.
Ah, like a deep breath.