Snapped from sleep by one sharp percussive, I'm-watching-you bark, Max's attempt to scare a couple of smirking elk twenty feet outside our tent failed but left my heart beating like a hummingbird's. Once I figured out where I was, I decided to do my being in-the-moment exercises by savoring the dully-lit, playfulness of dawn.
Moments:
I realized that all those barking dogs were actually honking geese.
I followed the sound of a truck crossing the bridge into town and coming to a stop. Did he stop for breakfast at Cathy's Cafe? I've noticed (and re-noticed to make sure I'd read it correctly) on the door it says she opens at 5:30 and I've wondered if anyone actually eats there that early.
I watched frustrated mosquitos outside the tent screen that haven't figured out they could just come up through the deck floor boards if they wanted to get in.
MomentMomentMoment. The screeching whistle of that eagle I've never quite managed to see sounds closer than usual. I'm not sure if I heard or felt the easy evenly spaced wing beats that followed him? to that doug fir with the cushy exploded top. Seconds later it was joined by a husband or mother? Sister? maybe friend....not sure of how eagles pair up... Anyway, relaxing in their living treetop mattress, they let me take a picture. They even gave me time to change my lens. It's hardly a work of art, and I don't want you thinking that I think it is, but at least you know I didn't make the whole thing up
This hectic morning show leaves me feeling a bit less skeptical of the whole Noah's Ark story (but 2 of everything???) and that I should pick a different time of day to sleep.
Oh, before I forget...we've had an Immediate overwhelming response to filling the hummingbird feeder with sweet red liquid, as opposed to having it filled with just air, although there was one gullible hummingbird that seemed to think it was sustaining itself with the feeder's red plastic flowers and our red canvas camp chairs.
p.s Did I ever show you our riverfront?
p.p.s. we have rafters...stay tuned.
