Today I witnessed a struggle, a fight, a defensively charged action. A hawk and two crows battled in the skies above me. Swiftly through the air they darted, dashed, danced. They fought for something I was unaware of. Perhaps those black angry birds were defending their airspace, their territory, their block. Or perhaps they were defending their unborn chicks awaiting to come out of their shell. Or perhaps they were charged to create this thought in mind. Either way, the visual display of their theatrics was captivating. The Hawk glided calmly, so it seemed. Moving gently with the help of gravity and the wind around its brown and white outstretched wings. After a few moments the black angry birds seemed to push the hawk outside their airspace, their territory, their block. Beautifully the hawk vanished over the horizon. Frantically the black angry birds disappeared in between some nearby trees and me. I stood there. Goggling. Thinking about what I just witnessed as that airspace, that territory, that block briskly lay vacant. I then thought to myself of a phrase I once heard on a flight to Las Vegas defined by a high pitch and powerfully exclaimed, “Super bird!” I chuckled and then wrote this.
Dedicated to my friend Andrew David Fisher
Find him on Instagram: @ninja_andrew