A Ghost of a Morning

I am up early before the sun, as usual, even on this Saturday. As I smell the richness of morning coffee, I look out the window and see the pink and purple dawn coloring the lower sky, just above the silhouetted trees. Each morning is familiar but also like a new gift. A recognizable silhouette in the tree along the shore catches my eye. It is a very large hawk? - osprey are gone for the season. I get my binoculars and although the light is still faint I am sure that I see the shape of an eagle's head and the whiter feather's filling that shape. I lower the binoculars and move to another window to get a better look and like a ghost, the possible bald eagle is gone. I saw no spread of wings and no movement of branches...it has dissolved into the pink sky in a second. As I look out across the water I also see the ghostly movement of winter fog, hanging over the river like the smoke from a long ago camp fire. It also will disappear in a second.