The hawk turned slowly and flexed his great wings to maintain his height. In this cold wind, he flew merely to see and to travel. Gone was the exhilaration of fast-rising summer air carrying him so high into the sky’s blue vacuum that the pond became a silver speck and the great southern lake dazzled him with a glaring slash of reflected sun.

The hawk turned slowly and flexed his great wings to maintain his height. In this cold wind, he flew merely to see and to travel. Gone was the exhilaration of fast-rising summer air carrying him so high into the sky’s blue vacuum that the pond became a silver speck and the great southern lake dazzled him with a glaring slash of reflected sun.

– Franklin Russell –

Watchers at the Pond

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