Sunday, April 20, 2014

Eagle Sighting

WE are bird watchers.  Binoculars, feeding, listing making, discussions,  Come Look.... It is the story of my life.  We are observers. We were trained to see things other people don't. 

In fact after I took the MMPI (some sort of test established to figure out if you are sane) during law school, I was called in and asked about some of my answers.  I had answered yes to the question:  Do you see things other people don't?  I answered yes.  I do see things other people don't.  I am more observant and aware.    A gift and a curse.  

I see pain and suffering in odd places.  It does not leave me. I read between the lines, I observe the silence and lack of communication as a sort of communication. I don't see dead people but I see very sad and hurting people.  It was the best and the worst of my lawyer time.  I wanted to help. I want to make it better. Many things can't ever be made better. 

MEB is doing great. But she is deeply deeply scarred and will carry those within her being forever.  Many are not visible. They are there.  Sometimes they rear their ugly head in odd ways. Panic over bad grades, worry about when a check will clear, avoiding new things.  Now lots of these are very normal stuff.  Hers has a bit of unusual intensity. It makes me worry but then I don't think there will ever be an end to the worry.  

We went to a special birthday party yesterday and went for a walk looking for a beach path.  She would not enter the wooded area even though it was raining and dry under the branches.  She fears the woods because of the fungus, the mold the stuff in those areas.  No amount of coaxing would work.  Instead, I left the dry and we walked up a pretty impressive hill.  5 flights on the Fitbit. 

 During the walk we were looking up and down and out on the water. Then it was spotted, the large mass of dense sticks tucked in the top third of a Douglas fir.  We had seen a couple of mature Bald Eagles flying around and now we knew why.  A moment of quiet observation of a good thing.  The sort of observation makes you think about things grander and more mysterious. A special moment of wonder.

Then there is the really frustrating bit of observation. A new bird, a flash of yellow, serious concentration on the small black and yellow being searching for food.  But sometimes even with the most astute observation can be thwarted.  Somethings are so very difficult.  One of these visited. I will never probably know which one it was.  It just was one of them.



One thing I have learned is that a flash of observation sometimes has to be enough.  We seldom really ever know the answer.  

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