tim hiking in ontario, august
Each fall I feel like I need to migrate. I can't get outside enough. We tend to find ourselves outdoors a lot, exploring local parks and trails, following the foliage and storing up the colors of sunlight.
We took an impromptu drive yesterday to hike on Hawk Mountain. The raptors are migrating by the hundreds through the valley, so we sat on top at the end of the trail with our binoculars. We perched next to a bunch of other bird-watchers on the white granite rocks, while red-backed voles and chipmunks skittered around the pathways at our feet. (they really do, bold little things.)
And we waited. The mountains rippled away in blue at our feet. The berry bushes were scarlet against the green of the rhododendrons, and the air had that silent deep clarity of the mountain top.
Soon enough, far-away spots turned into bald eagles, hawks and kestrels. Osprey and falcons flapped or glided by, some quite close, others just silhouettes against the cloudbanks. Many majestic vultures lazily caressed the invisible airstreams. Funnels of black pepper specks were a kettle of hawks 40 strong, catching the warm air up to higher paths. Spots of bright orange tottered their way to mexico ~ monarchs against the sky, skimming over treetops.
I could soak it in forever. The brevity, the moment, the light, the being alive, being there, the falcon's eye turning to look at me as it passed.
We came home to a later blue evening and a burnished ivory moon that would knock your eye out. In autumn, nature is getting out all that it has thought about all year.
The (randomly chosen) winner of the polaroid giveaway is MJ. MJ, send your address to me ~ flypeterfly AT hotmail DOT com, and I'll pop Icarus in the mail to you!