Relative Something

A slow disappearance of snow is happening right before our eyes this week, despite the sky being mostly cloudy. Each morning, we find ourselves surprised by the appearance of more exposed ground.

Yesterday morning, we had an eagle soar just above our heads on our walk to feed the horses. The herd was milling around just outside the large paddock, and the arrival of the large wingspan so close overhead unnerved Light and sent her running back inside the wooden fence line.

The eagle looped around and landed on the high point of the hay field, quickly revealing that a field critter was about to be breakfast. Instead of running away, Mia took a few steps toward the regal raptor and stared confidently. It looked to us like she was flaunting her absence of intimidation from the great predator.

Asher was oblivious to it all, keeping his attention to the ground where the residual scent of all the nocturnal wildlife activity that had occurred the night before still lingered.

I have watched eagles soaring so far above our land that they look like a little dot in the sky that becomes invisible if you look away, and then try to find it again. Having them also fly so close that you can almost reach up and touch them is a memorable experience.

The wing pattern in yesterday’s Words on Images post was made by a much smaller wing than that of the eagle in our hay field, but it was in the snow near the top of that same hill.

This theme of wings is a recurring one this week. A couple of days ago, as Asher and I were strolling past the old chicken coop, our arrival flushed an owl out of the branches right over our heads. I had no idea it was there until the whoosh of its departure. It soared straight away from us, and I was granted a clean view of the graceful motion of a grand wingspan propelling the bird through the air.

The bounty of walking among these revered winged creatures leaves me feeling a little small as I plod along the packed snow of our frequently traveled pathways, but it also fills me with an appreciation for being able to share space with them.

It serves as a reminder to look up more often to see what might be perched in the branches overhead.

Rarely are we ever as alone as I sometimes feel on these rural acres.

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