Red-shouldered Hawk
Sometimes we grow forgetful of what is vitally important to our sanity. Sometimes we are simply distracted by the clutter and clatter of life. And then, if we are lucky, a small miracle comes our way — something unexpected that breaks through the mind chatter and invites us to be still, to rest in the unfolding beauty of the world.
This was my experience late yesterday afternoon. After a chaotic week of dealing with various issues too nettlesome to mention, I discovered a magnificent red-shouldered hawk perched in one of the sycamore trees in my yard. I have encountered this hawk many times before, and I've spent considerable time trying to get close enough to make a decent photo. On every prior occasion, however, my slightest movement sent the hawk screeching into the nearest heavily wooded area.
Yesterday was different. I felt instinctively that the hawk was approaching me, no less than I was approaching it. It was all about connecting with each other and with things that matter in this world. Once the connection was made, the petty problems of the week dissipated and I was overcome with the kind of peace that Mary Oliver describes in her fine poem, "Messenger," which appears in her 2006 collection, Thirst. Like Oliver, I simply want to "keep my mind on what matters . . . which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished."
This was my experience late yesterday afternoon. After a chaotic week of dealing with various issues too nettlesome to mention, I discovered a magnificent red-shouldered hawk perched in one of the sycamore trees in my yard. I have encountered this hawk many times before, and I've spent considerable time trying to get close enough to make a decent photo. On every prior occasion, however, my slightest movement sent the hawk screeching into the nearest heavily wooded area.
Yesterday was different. I felt instinctively that the hawk was approaching me, no less than I was approaching it. It was all about connecting with each other and with things that matter in this world. Once the connection was made, the petty problems of the week dissipated and I was overcome with the kind of peace that Mary Oliver describes in her fine poem, "Messenger," which appears in her 2006 collection, Thirst. Like Oliver, I simply want to "keep my mind on what matters . . . which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished."
Messenger
by Mary Oliver
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird —
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,
which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.
by Mary Oliver
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird —
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,
which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.
Inspiring on every level, George! What a great photograph!!! And of course Oliver's poem..... Between the beautiful, descriptive words is tucked a phrase with which I leave, "Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work."
ReplyDeleteThank you for such a wonderful start to my day!
Thanks for the lovely comment, Bonnie. Oliver's words never fail to lift my spirits and put me in the right frame of mind with which to encounter the day.
DeleteThat bird is exquisite George - why is it that the killing machines of the bird world are always so beautiful?
ReplyDeleteThanks, Pat. In response to your question, perhaps it is because they take only what they need, in contrast with humans, and they do it without either fear or regret.
DeleteYou must be delighted with that top photo, George. It's absolutely breathtaking.
ReplyDeleteTalking of hawks, this book has just won the Costa Book Award; I thought it might be worth reading:
http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/jul/23/h-is-for-hawk-helen-macdonald-review
Thanks, Robert. Glad you liked the photo — and thanks also for the recommendation on the Helen Macdonald book. I'll check it out.
DeleteThat majestic bird! And, I see you're getting buds on the trees. Being astonished and rejoicing - more an more as I age, I find myself in this "quickening" state of being. Mary Oliver is a national treasure; she finds words to express the universal healing of Nature. Don't let the world get you down, George. Step outside now and then to breath.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the lovely comment, Barb. Lest you have any doubt, I don't get down very long, and I do try to stay outside and breath, both literally and metaphorically.
DeleteNettlesome... A good word! Did you invent it? I can probably find plenty of uses for it myself! :)
ReplyDeleteNo, Dominic, I didn't invent "nettlesome," though I'm perfectly capable of word inventions where appropriate. According to my online dictionary, "nettlesome" means "causing irritation, vexation, or annoyance." It's a word that I find appropriate for all too many situations in modern life.
ReplyDeleteOh, what a beauty! Just look at how splendid he is!
ReplyDeleteI can't stop looking and will end here so I can go back and look some more.
Thanks so much, Wendy. Glad you like the photo of my friend and neighbor.
DeleteWhat an amazing photograph! That is a beautiful hawk. I imagine she was focusing in on you as much as you were focusing on her.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for your generous comment, Susie. Yes, I thought the hawk was focusing on me throughout the whole engagement.
ReplyDeleteI sort of lost track of your blog, and came across it by chance today. Turns out this is exactly what I needed. Many thanks to you and your handsome friend, George. And to Mary Oliver too.
ReplyDeleteMany thanks for your your comment, Mary. Glad the photo and poem resonated with you.
DeleteI wonder if we simply forget to be astonished, and so "learning" to be is really remembering, actually unlearning our suave suppressions.
ReplyDeleteI don't know that I've seen a more beautiful creature than this red-shouldered hawk. To be approached by him seems a far greater blessing than capturing him on your camera's sensor. But the fact that you did means we share the astonishment, and you have him there in your vision always.
And what clear-sightedness he brought with him!
Thanks, Ruth, for your very thoughtful and generous comment. I think you are absolutely on point; "learning," particularly with respect to matters of nature and spirit, is really an exercise in remembering. And, yes, being approached by the hawk was a far greater blessing that capturing it on film. This, of course, has always be the great attraction to photography for me. The attention, focus, and discipline that leads up to a good photograph often results in a kind of mystical experience, certainly a new way of both seeing and knowing, and when that happens, the release of the camera's shutter becomes secondary, if not inconsequential.
DeleteThanks. I know from experience how much patience is required to capture a bird with a camera lens. This is a great accomplishment! Such beauty and symbolism here.
DeleteThanks, Ruth. Hope all is well with you and your family.
DeleteGeorge, I think you would love the read Helen Macdonald’s ‘H is for Hawk’.
ReplyDeleteIt’s a wonderful book. I am reading it in small chunks to make it last.
There is a lyrical quality to her writing which is almost poetic.
Great to hear from you, Friko. Thanks for the recommendation. The Solitary Walker also recommended the book, and I intend to get it.
ReplyDeleteJust found your website. How glorious that hawk is. Thank u for sharing such a photo!
ReplyDeleteThanks for your generous comment, Diane. Hope you will stop by and join the conversation again.
DeleteMary Oliver is fantastic. The poem resonates deeply with me -- thanks -- barbara
ReplyDeleteThanks for the lovely comment, Glad to know that the poem resonated with you.
DeleteI have taken up "bird watching" a bit. Am trying to find the time to join a local group. I have been reading quite a bit about the birds in my backyard and am also putting birding locations on my itinerary for future vacations we have planned. To connect with birds one must be still, quiet, and appear to be of no danger. It really isn't easy to blend in and gain their trust - just raising the camera can send them off in a panic. So, I understand this photo is truly amazing (I'm sure a zoom lens does help a bit). I love Mary Oliver and I have a few of her books. This poem I do connect with… the big 50 is around the corner.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Margaret. I think you will find birds to be endlessly fascinating. What you can't see in this photo is that I've spent many months befriending the hawks in my neighborhood. When I pass them on a walk, I literally talk to them, telling them how great it is to see them, and there is no need to be fearful. And then, suddenly one day, I encounter the hawk and he engages me as a friend, not as a threat. Patience — that is the key to bird photography, but, as you say, a telephoto of at least 300mm is helpful. This shot was taken with a 80-400mm Nikkor.
DeleteSomehow, I missed this beautiful post. Your photographs of the hawk are spectacular! And, the Oliver poem is one of my favorites.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Teresa. I spent a lot of time trying to get this image of the hawk, but it was worth the effort. And, of course, Oliver's poetry is the gift that keeps on giving.
Delete