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Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Flying with Hawk

In a dream the other night, I was running along a soft, dusty trail on a ridgeline through mostly low-lying sparse desert chaparral, suddenly, now, reminiscent of some distant Baja memory. Warm thermals were flowing up the ridges and I was flying along on them.

On a trail run the other day, I was descending along a familiar hard-packed brown mountain path through semi-coastal-desert foothill chaparral. Above me and to my right, holding still on his thermal yet keeping pace with me, a hawk shadowed me, for a moment, the two of us flying together.

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