Wings

Hawks were all over the place! Green Mountain road was free of snow and the sage and buttercups were reaching up, trying to grab the sun before the clouds took over that blue sky. At every bend in the gravel road, behind every cliff, a Red Tail's wingspan would appear and dip and then the bird would soar away. This happened so many times, for miles. Once, we stopped the car and got out to watch. C took pictures of one doing circles 'round and 'round, looking down on us, like he'd never seen humans before. Maybe he was protecting some nest tucked away on the other side of the cliffs. Maybe he was simply saying, look at me, I can fly!

Hawk lady, Helen Macdonald, has written a memoir. So far, so wonderful.

Could this be a little Warbler of some kind? He certainly was trilling like there was no tomorrow.

Here's Mama Owl! Her tail feathers, anyway. She made her nest deep this year. She's learning. Wise owl.

Here you can see her face. Somewhere in that nest is at least one fuzzy white owlet. We saw it, for only a moment.

I will go back there again today in hopes of seeing the baby balancing on a branch in the sunshine.

The sage is growing long and lush near the creek.

Cloud rumble. Or something like that.

Wherever we go, there they are. The Pronghorn Antelope is the quintessential prairie animal and my favorite of all the creatures that fly.

Peppergrass. The entire plant is edible.

The beginning of the end of the day.