Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The full moon was hanging in the clear blue winter sky, behind black silhouettes of naked trees. It was afternoon, not quite dusk. Cold. A hawk, with feathers of the underside of its wings and body a chalky white, flew across the road in front of my car, under the white moon. I wanted to be of some secret society where the hawk and the full moon in the same winter sky had special meaning, held an omen of some great thing to come. But really, it was just a beautiful sight and that was enough.