National Bird

If I were Peeping Tommy (see blog entry of Sept. 3), I would have been very pleased this morning.  As my Brooks Adrenalines treaded the Greenlea Bridge, my eyes spied something unusual resting on a power line high above the James River.  I ran a few more paces, then turned back for another look at what normally would have been a dove or pigeon.  This one had a solid white head (not one to squeeze).  It watched me out of the corner of an eye while I simply stared (no manners, this human).  After a few minutes, I dialed Karen's number to report the sighting.  She said she'd bring the camera and scurried car-ward.  No use. The bald eagle spread its wings after a noisy truck lumbered past.  I called off the photo staff support.  Sorry, no pic today.

Meanwhile, down in the bushes, Mr. and Mrs. Bentley....just kidding.  The bushes and the river played a quiet prelude to what was certain to become a rush of water traffic for this last summer holiday of the year.  An hour later, my chain saw melody interrupted the peaceful morning, quickly punished and silenced by a nut gone missing (not me; one of the two used to tighten the chain).  I seem to be having difficulty becoming one with firewood harvesting this year.  Om, Om.