Another cold and gray winter morning.
Snow blankets the ground but still allows the field to show through.
The old familiar tree sits at the side of the road,
spreading its web of arms out like the spokes of an umbrella
that has lost its covering.
Every morning for the last four years she has passed by this tree,
and every morning for the last four years her friend has been there to greet her.
It started out engaging enough…the discovery of this new friend.
A red-tailed hawk that didn’t need her existence, yet…
it was as if he wanted to see her as much as she wanted to see him.
Her mornings were filled with contentment when she saw him.
Sometimes he would fly over the field in a majestic fashion,
searching for food and preparing to swoop down upon his prey,
but mostly he sat in the old tree and waited for her.
And when she came…she smiled at him and greeted him,
relieved to have yet another day to experience his companionship.
It was as if he sensed this and reciprocated the affection by his presence.
Her insignificance to him was erased and he stood tall and proud in the tree,
intent on being a comfort to her.
Somehow in this life,
two creatures that should never matter to each other
became bound by respect and the solitude of the early morning.
Somehow in this life,
two creatures that should never matter to each other –
do.