Wednesday, January 01, 2014
He sits, imperious, holding that regal pose, focused on the tiniest sound of movement and watching that precious lift of a leaf by the wood mouse in search of an errant seed. He glowers, overlooking small birds with various brightly colored feathers that fly across his view and land teasingly close. They ignore His Majesty without fear knowing his diet does not include them, knowing their dive and twist into the woods outmatches his sweep and swerve. Yet the buteo's piercing eyes are magnetic and steely sharp as if they could see below the crust of this winter's earth into the safe den of each small rodent. Broad wings are held tightly against his magnificent body like the drape of a royal cloak soft as a pashmina shawl in the color of warm chestnut. He is both patient and intensely alert in the low angled winter afternoon sun. I am impressed and glad to see him as my yard has been interwoven with the net of tunnels of moles and voles and spring will bring a population explosion.
(Taken through the screened kitchen window one recent afternoon.)