to catch a close up sight of a hawk is a gift to me, truly a presentation of spirit that comes through the grace of proper timing and location that’s entirely of this majestic birds choosing. Recently during a late morning walk we stopped to take photos of a Green heron that was intently fishing in a shallow section of the pond and a Red-shouldered hawk swooped directly to a branch right before us, inviting us to turn our attention away from the heron and bestow this bird with awe. He stayed with us for quiet sometime, having such deep stillness and poise, with absolutely no concern for our proximity.
a rare gift indeed.
most often they are seen in hunting flight, their distinctive call drawing my gaze upward in attention, or sometimes posed on a telephone wire and quickly glimpsed while driving by. Even then they’re a thrill to see and that same calm poised is sensed through distance, a predator in flight or rest. It’s always a special occasion to find one as I’m walking, as if it’s waiting on a certain branch specifically for my arrival. Somehow my eyes are always drawn in their direction, as if pulled by a subtle energy of chance encounters. I’m always struck by the synchronicity of events that bring me here. that if I take one turn in a different direction, hesitate for just a moment before heading out the door, and I might completely miss this sacred opportunity.
and truly is a holy event, a shaman’s gift of direct revelation.
a hawk will speak to me of connections, showing me a vision of a world through flight, invisible currents of air and energy that invite me to soar along their heights. There is a special sight for these invisible pathways, a hawk’s view that sees throughout its entire body, from eye to wingtip, instantaneous in response. That’s my lesson here, it’s shown by the hawk’s patient perch on tree limb, having an inherent gift of flight that relies as much on the grace of air as it does on effort of wings. Flight is always a present possibility, those currents of energy are constantly available, never diminished, and that a restful moment on a branch is just that — a pause, an opportunity for wings to gather close to body, connecting more to earth through limb and all the way to the spread of tree roots.
I am taught to trust my own gift of flight.
as well as my connection to earth.
everywhere is home, from branch to air.
a lesson from a hawk.