One other thing about yesterday’s trip: driving up 280, just north of the Flintstone house, I saw the wings overhead of a raptor riding the thermals with that familiar angle of, apparently, a peregrine falcon. I exclaimed over it and told Nina. And then on our way home, in close to the same spot, I saw one again! Kicking the breeze, sightseeing from above.
Meantime, Veer, last year’s male peregrine fledgling, has been spotted safe and sound a few miles northeast of where he grew up on San Jose City Hall’s 18th floor nest. His beak and talons are starting to turn yellow; next, his chest will turn more fully white, and by next spring he will be a full-fledged (well, yeah) adult. The band on his leg verified it was him as Eric the photographer snapped photos of Veer here.
Did my heart good, I tell you. Meantime, this year’s three surviving eyasses are growing by the day. And to think there were only two surviving nesting pairs in all of California and zero left on the East Coast in the 1970’s.
We can create much good out of imperfect circumstances–if we pay attention, if we care enough, and if we believe and pray to get it right and then go and actually do.