From all the way
across the river, in the hazy green/gold light of a June evening, a stirring sight and
sound: High, high on the ridge above Hill Street, from a bare tree above lush
green woods, lone sharp-shinned hawk calling, a
slow keer-keer-keer.
That sound, I think,
should not be heard so clearly across such distance; but the elevation/altitude
seems to have set it loose to ring and echo.
Now, a week later, I
find that there is something in this event that has stayed with me, surfacing
in my deepest meditations, my contemplations of all that is possible.
-Journal entry and watercolor sketch by kmb, June 2013.
