Tuesday, November 11, 2008

did you see that? said Crow



November came in with a fury this Sunday



and today is bitterly cold, too.


No hand can stop the clasp of winter.



No more romancing with the global warming side of climate change, winter is clamping its teeth down on us. The winds were from the northwest on Sunday, and in November that means oh-oh, time to get out the warmest scarves, gloves, and coat. Tights, too, under your pants so the icy wind doesn't burn your legs red. My toasty bed tried to seduce me to stay and sleep some more, but Musti and Tassu were waiting. I bundled up and headed out doors towards the welcoming howls of the dogs.



I was gifted with the sight of the eagle again. Of course. Each time I doubt or waffle I'm reminded of the blessings to be found, especially under the harshest conditions. At first I wasn't sure if it was the eagle battling the winds way up high. But who else would have the strength of wing to fight the northwesterlies across the open waters?



It was the white band of his square tail feathers that gave him away. He wasn't flying in spirals this time; today was not the day for leisurely soaring. Wings outstretched, he was mercurial, in a war dance with the wind, holding his own against the winds that are just the first taste of what's yet to come.



Wrapping my scarf closer to my throat, I watched the eagle fly across the bay and hover steady against the wind. Suddenly, he plummeted, talons outstretched like a greedy child, down down like a screeching meteorite to where the geese and the ducks were taking shelter. A loud squawking and honking and beating of feathers and splashing ensued. I wrapped my scarf closer to my throat.



Even the grasses stopped their sashaying amongst the struggle for life.



The eagle flew up, a lit on a hydro wire. No bird or blood on his talons this time. He calmly surveyed his turf. His white-tipped boat of a tail bobbed in the wind. He turned to look at me and the dogs



and flew off.



did you see that? said Crow

3 comments:

marja-leena said...

Fantastic photos! The top one is my favourite. And what an awesome experience witnessing that eagle in its power.

I remember winters in Winnipeg often arrived just before or just after Halloween. Brrr. We're spoiled out here on the west coast. Instead we are having monsoons, which don't provide such exciting photo ops :-)

Katja said...

Can't believe it, it's that sister telepathy again! I took the same kind of photos of interesting icicles yesterday as I was walking along the river at George Burke Park with Sam. It was hard to get close to the water without falling in and Sam pulling at the leash at the same time but a determined photographer can do anything of course.
Yes crows must see the most amazing and magical things as they perch high up in the trees! I'm sure they try to tell us with their loud cawing!!

northshorewoman said...

Yes, ice is nice but I think grey skies and rain have lots of magic, too!...as your photo of the leaf pressed onto your rainy window shows.

Katja, yes, it's that sister telepathy, which as we know, crosses the Atlantic Ocean, too.