My brother in Colorado had the flu two weeks ago and his fever hit 105, a new definition of Rocky Mountain High. I didn’t have to go through anything like that, and today is definitely better than the weekend; thank you everybody for your kind notes.
I was filling the birdfeeder a few minutes ago, scaring off the squirrel and the birds as I walked outside with my measuring cup ready to pour sunflower seeds. I stood on an outside chair to unscrew the top, looked up expecting to see the usual lineup of mourning doves and finches along the telephone wires watching and waiting–and saw, instead, familiar widespread wings riding the thermal up high above, soaring away…
Come closer! I silently begged at it.
And then it banked, turned, and it did. Down much lower and towards me. I could hardly breathe. I’d read recently that sometimes birds of prey will stake out birdfeeder territory as their own, so since this was my third sighting from my house, I felt I could claim it: this was my peregrine.
It swooped down low enough to show off. You wanted to see me, lady? Here I am.
I am definitely better now!