Day # 211: Obsessed by the Marsh Hawk

# 211

I woke up at 5:30  this morning and the bay was socked in with fog, everything felt wet, but a lot cooler.  Now at 8:20 the fog is almost entirely burnt off, I can see Newport, but a breeze remains and I can hear the waves on the rocks remarkably well.  It is a lovely beginning to the day.  I wish I had binoculars with me.  

It is now 9:20 and I have begun my writing, the breeze is strong and right through the window I am sitting near, the sea is loud, and the hawk has returned to screech by my ear.  He is right outside my window, floating on the wind, hanging in mid air, occasionally flitting his wings, but not moving from the place he is watching.  I have not seen him with a catch, yet.  I think I will by the end of the week, though.  I do hope it is not one of those bunnies.  He's just hanging in mid air, talons hanging straight down .  Why is he warning his prey, though?

The ocean is choppy.

It's overcast, wind blowing 

through the yard with high humidity

but average summer temperatures.

I am damp, but not from sweat.

Observing the on-going behaviour 

of the Marsh Hawk couple

living amidst the rose hips.

They float on air

and screech their high pitched "kee"

Talons hang down, wing tips bent

A holding pattern in a high wind

The Red Tail's presence is always

a mystery to me.  Appearing

when unexpected - to leave

a message for my assurance,

life is abundant, life is strong.

But these hawks seem constant

their endless cries a language for each other

not for me

Yet as the wind picks up

the sky goes grey

I believe they are flying closer

swooping in front of a window

these are attempts at telling

me something, if not,

just warning of the impending

storm.  

Now as it approaches 8 p.m. the storm is here.  There are white caps and I can barely see across to lights on the other side of the bay.  The day has come full circle.  It feels as though we are at sea.  It will clear, but not before sunset.  We will photograph the blue moon at midnight.