An English In Kentucky


















October 19th 2010    Tim Candler

    Tangent to the day to day is a preoccupation with that odd bird briefly seen last springtime and again some days ago.   It had all the makings of something cruel.  A Northern Harrier, a Merlin.   Or something slightly less cruel.  An Owl of some kind.

    Why Owls should be slightly less cruel than Harriers or Merlins has entirely to do with the position of the eyes, rather than to do with characteristics of their relationships with other beings.  These things that fly and feed on meat have never appealed in anyway to the thing that is me.  And this I suppose because peaceable-ness belongs to my wishes.

    Oddly I am fond of Herons and Cormorants, Diving Ducks of all sorts and Pelicans and even Fish Eagles.   So perhaps in my world the cold blooded are fair game as food.

    Then I heard that an Osprey was sighted near the lake.  And indeed with its neck-less head and whitish under parts, an Osprey defines the specter I have glimpsed and cursed and wondered at because I thought it would make a meal of the Mockingbird.

    Meanwhile I hunt Sweet Potato.   Which are most delicious.

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