Rebecca has a savage, lovely pic up, a wild redatail with a grosbeak right outside her window. “I try to replay it in my head and realize that even though I was looking, I experienced the moment rather than seeing it, too primal of an instant to do anything but react. I only saw red and know I’ll never forget that limited vision of her tail, an unexpected meteor, then a smattering of red across my view. Perhaps there is nothing more to see than the tail, human eyes are too weak to take much more in, the mind filling in the blanks with blood. I think I understand those auburn feathers in a way I didn’t before. As the jarring cries of grosbeak in her feet confirmed that neither of us saw her coming, I know I understood my own weakness. She’s a better predator than I’ll ever be; exquisite and terrifying.”


  1. Steve– if you can locate it, read Patty Ann Rogers’ poem: “If Your Father Was a Redbird”– I’m guessing on the title.

    If you haven’t read her poetry, you’re in for a magnificent surprise.

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