Saturday, September 1, 2012

silent wings

There is a wooded park near our home and we ambled along its trails last evening as light faded.
A movement caught my husbands eye mid-stride as a mouse hastened underfoot. It was not a sleek and satiny city mouse but was a country mouse instead. His coat was tufty and unpressed looking; Casual but comfortable. He didn't seem concerned with the tangle of feet above him. Perhaps he had already heard the hunters voice on the evening air.
A bend or two in the path and we saw the silhouette of a great owl high in the darkening branches. It disappeared on powerful, silent wings.

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