Saturday, December 27, 2025

Where we gather


 Where two gather


We had given up on the eagle flying from the snag by the waters edge, the shadows of days end enveloping him. We retreated ever so slowly perchance he knew we waited, toying with us, when came the gulls toward the rising moon. He got the moon in focus, I got the birds in focus. We were both pleased. The eagle could sit there all evening for all we cared.

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