I have always loved birds. As a child, I kept track of the various species that migrated through my native Michigan. Robins, Orioles, Cardinals, Bluebirds, Sparrows, Red-Winged Blackbirds, Canadian Geese, and on and on.
It's no different out here in California. Yesterday I was trying to catch a tender little hummingbird hovering in and around my fruit trees, but all I came up with was a blurry abstract version of the habitat, not the hummingbird.
Today, far overhead, I spied a red-tailed hawk.
This is the essence of a lonely hunter. Sort of like a journalist, whose friends and family reject him for doing what he needs to do. On the other hand, much like a killer, hovering dangerously overhead; that is, if you are a mouse.
"The truth shall set you free." Maybe, but the truth-teller has to be killed. That is the ancient wisdom from Plato. I understand my relatives' and old friends' loathing for a message that offends their sensibilities. Perhaps because I am still as one with them, my words scar more deeply than those of an unknown writer.
But I am who I am. A loving family member, but also a black sheep. Always have been; always will be.
Go Wings!
At least there is something we might agree upon.
But, alas, it is time for me to move on. I'm like a hawk, seeking new prey upon which to inflict my unwelcome attention.
Or, more kindly, a "free bird."
Goodbye, sweet past. I shall never be returning to you. I'm gone, carried by winds and tides to places where you would never venture.
Still, I hope to find a good Scottish meat pie sometime soon. And I still root for the Wolverines, Tigers, Lions (ugh), Pistons, and Wings, whether my version of loyalty is appreciated or not.
No comments:
Post a Comment