Sunday, April 12, 2009

Migrating Birds Rest Area

I have always been fascinated by all kinds of animals from the time I was a little girl. For me the need to have one or more animal companions is almost visceral it is so overwhelming (and by the way, I know that I'm not the only one feeling this way...) that I have too many fingers to account for the number of years that I was without one. One day my last husband remarked how I was totally enthralled at the sight of birds, a reaction of which I had been unaware till then. How hard it is to truly know oneself. . . Eventually I grew to realize how I envied them the ability to travel over land and sea, to escape gravity for just a while and soar high up, to just GO. And yes, I was totally enchanted by Richard Bach's Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
Come to think of it, this would explain why I opted to live in a house on wheels, my rather lacking in the wings department. For the GO factor. And why I am so enamored of the Desert Southwest and its deep canyons, washes, and countless mesas, its wide horizons and clear skies. And its wild life, permanent or passing by. The area where I stay in the winter months is a rest area for migrating birds. I started feeding them and their numbers grew so much it led me to suspect that there must a gossip line where to find the good grub.

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