Birds have never been an object of my affection, still remembering a childhood pet, Ginger the "killer" parakeet, killing her birdcage roommate, Miss Blue, who might just have been the only feathered flier able to cure my ornithophobia (bird phobia). Snakes, bugs, including spiders, lizards, worms, even mice and rats, may not tickle my fancy and I certainly can live without them, but I don't cringe or nearly die of heart failure if one ventures near. Birds are best left outside, soaring high against the vibrant blue skies, being carried by the faint breezes, floating effortlessly in the opposite direction from me!
Watching the birds of prey, they rule the airspace surrounding my home. Winter time, allowing a more in depth view of their neighborhood. Recent showers seems to have spruced up the floor of the preserve, bordering my backyard. Inhabitants peeking out from beneath the decaying leaves, that once were the majestic emerald green dense canopy covering this tropical oasis. Surely they are sun-bathing, an opportunity to soak up the rays of a cooler winter sun, stretching the legs that propel them to safety. Birds of prey are the epitome of patience, concentration and there is beauty in their flight. Much like a monarch presiding over his fiefdom, these birds observe, slowly spanning the floor of their "kingdom," honing in on less fortunate "subjects," their attack, strategically brilliant. As an observer, one might think it is reckless abandonment, quite the contrary.
Circling high above the ground, the sophisticated black and white feathered Osprey appears to be enjoying his flight, his wings stretched wide, circling, he is orchestrating his planned attack. In the blink of eye, his brain signaling, "dive, dive"! Wings back, tucked closed to his now missile shaped body, his high speed descent begins. The hunt, a moment of precision, ultimate beauty and heart-thumping excitment, talons appear from this feathered hunter's sleek body, his target never had a chance.
Today, observing a pair of Osprey preparing a nest, high above the ground, their dance atop the light pole suggested a sweet tenderness between the pair. Such a stark contradiction to their mode of survival. As parents, they nurture, discipline and teach their offspring. Errors in technique or judgment would cause devasting results. As a child of Mother Nature, they are embodied with a love and compassion for their young, their cold-hearted precision suggests otherwise. They are true birds of prey, the flight of the Osprey, a majestic voyage to observe, a ballet of fitness, they are the ultimate warrior, they are the victors!
Watching the birds of prey, they rule the airspace surrounding my home. Winter time, allowing a more in depth view of their neighborhood. Recent showers seems to have spruced up the floor of the preserve, bordering my backyard. Inhabitants peeking out from beneath the decaying leaves, that once were the majestic emerald green dense canopy covering this tropical oasis. Surely they are sun-bathing, an opportunity to soak up the rays of a cooler winter sun, stretching the legs that propel them to safety. Birds of prey are the epitome of patience, concentration and there is beauty in their flight. Much like a monarch presiding over his fiefdom, these birds observe, slowly spanning the floor of their "kingdom," honing in on less fortunate "subjects," their attack, strategically brilliant. As an observer, one might think it is reckless abandonment, quite the contrary.
Circling high above the ground, the sophisticated black and white feathered Osprey appears to be enjoying his flight, his wings stretched wide, circling, he is orchestrating his planned attack. In the blink of eye, his brain signaling, "dive, dive"! Wings back, tucked closed to his now missile shaped body, his high speed descent begins. The hunt, a moment of precision, ultimate beauty and heart-thumping excitment, talons appear from this feathered hunter's sleek body, his target never had a chance.
Today, observing a pair of Osprey preparing a nest, high above the ground, their dance atop the light pole suggested a sweet tenderness between the pair. Such a stark contradiction to their mode of survival. As parents, they nurture, discipline and teach their offspring. Errors in technique or judgment would cause devasting results. As a child of Mother Nature, they are embodied with a love and compassion for their young, their cold-hearted precision suggests otherwise. They are true birds of prey, the flight of the Osprey, a majestic voyage to observe, a ballet of fitness, they are the ultimate warrior, they are the victors!
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