Journal Entry.
August 1.
Yesterday–that would be the last day of July–my fourteen-year-old, over-six-foot-tall grandson and I were deadheading my very tall rose bush—a bush that grows higher than the eaves of our garage. Stretching out his long arms carefully so as not to get snagged by a thorn, he’d snap the long-handled lopper and a towering branch with clusters of hips would topple down the slope to where I stood cutting the branches to make them shorter to fit into our green recycling cart.
I noticed a sort of silence—a pause in the pruning sounds.
I looked
up from my work and there he stood
above me, face turned
skyward, eyes shaded
with his hand against the glare of the sun.
“It’s a hawk.”
His words were matter-of-fact, spoken with the confidence of one who knew.
I stood up,
leaned back,
and looked upward.
High above us, gracefully soared a winged creature.
I took his word for it being a hawk.
He’s the one who’s filled a sketch book with hawks, falcons, and eagles in great detail.
John Burroughs’ words fit the moment:
“August is the month of the high-sailing hawks.
The hen hawk is the most noticeable.
He likes the haze and calm of these long, warm days.
He is a bird of leisure and seems always at his ease.
How beautiful and majestic are his movements!”
Head over to Two Writing Teachers for more slice of life stories #SOL18 Thank you TWT for providing this place!
What a moment to treasure. Makes me look at hawks differently, now.
Looking up, looking down, taking a moment to pause and LOOK — that is one job of the poet. The poem reminded me of redtail hawks in our neighborhood. Sometimes they come and rest on our fence post.
What a beautiful piece capturing this one small moment in the day! We see many raptors where I live, but I wouldn’t know a falcon from a hawk. You convey that moment of silence so well–it became something you could actually hear.
Magnificent bird, nice poem and moments of togetherness with your grandson
Oh, i love this. When my niece visited last week, we hauled a ladder out to my roses and she helped me deadhead the tall ones. We captured some beautiful roses for my kitchen from one of those tall blooms that no one could see. So fun that your grandson was helping you and that he was rewarded with a hawk sighting for his efforts.
Your post makes me want to be sure to keep looking up at those August skies in search of my own hawk sighting. Beautiful!
Alice, what you saw must have been a magnificent sight.These lines from the quote resonated with me:
He likes the haze and calm of these long, warm days…
How beautiful and majestic are his movements!”
I missed reading your posts and wonder if you would like to send me an image poem for my summer gallery. The invitation is at http://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/2018/08/the-art-of-summering.html.
what a beautiful moment to share with your grandson. And it was told simply but beautifully.
I admit that I would not know the difference. The clear blue sky makes a perfect backdrop. Glad you’re back.