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On Bronzed Wings May 13, 2008

Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, Love and Death.
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The ribbon road runs westward, winding winsomely along the verdant valley floor.

On the right, fields flow by, hay fields with their nascent sprouts, cornfields tilled but as yet unplanted, roadside barns, gravel drives aiming anonymously toward neighbors you know but don’t know, nameless people you say hello to at the Post Office, the gas station, the general store.

On the left, a thin screen of maple trees unfurl their prayer flags in the steepening rays of a setting sun, celebrating their own arrival with a symphony of lime and chartreuse.

Beyond that runs The River, down and back to your upward and ahead, contrary to your Mission Homeward and simultaneously central to the world which you inhabit, an irrepressible canvas of blue light and pink noise, the sight-and-soundtrack of a riverine existence.

And above it, appearing and disappearing between the ecstatically budding trees, an undulating patch of bronze parallels your journey, catches your eye, connects with something deep inside of you.

You forget the road and focus on the bronze, and it becomes an Eagle, wings rowing effortlessly through it’s own ethereal stream, the long, low rays reflecting first off its smooth uppers, then off its dense lowers, seeming to propel it forward with every beat of its heart, every breath, every tick of the odometer.

For a thirty second eternity you move through time together, siblings on a journey, Destination Unknown, stripped of every intention other than being, watching each other exist and not exist through the shadows and light of the intervening reality, your windshield reflecting the same setting sun which warms its brilliantly white head, the powerful hook of its golden beak, its glorious tail splayed in aerodynamic perfection as it appears, disappears, appears, disappears, and finally fades into the night.

Thank you, Father Sky, for sharing another of your children with me.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

I’m sorry I don’t have photographs; it was all too brief, and I was all too mesmerized.

Comments»

1. Miz Lu(mena) - May 13, 2008

Couldn’t have written anything more beautiful and salient. When I see an eagle, I know it in my gut: it’s different from any other flying creature that I have ever seen and it arrests me, on the spot. Jaw drops, arms hang limp, head follows like a puppet. Mind clears completely. Charged with fascination: I plead guilty!

2. DCup - May 13, 2008

Your words painted a picture of beauty, strength and movement. So beautiful and, as you said, mesmerizing.

3. sherry - May 14, 2008

beautiful words. thanks.

4. Pagan Sphinx - May 14, 2008

I was thinking along the same lines as D – you may not have been able to photograph it but you gave us a beautiful mental image of what you saw. I was right there with you, in spirit and awe.

5. littlebangtheory - May 14, 2008

And so was Ursi, in the passenger seat on our way home from BU! The best part was sharing the wonder with her, she seemed to dig it! đŸ˜‰

And Miz Lu, that’s so how it was, a visceral realization that you’re in the presence of power and grace and dignity.

Thank you, ladies, for stopping by. I’ve been scarce in comments lately, but I’m with you in spirit.


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