Monday, January 11, 2010

Life With Parkinson's in my 40's- #27 One of My Gifts, A Tender Mercy

My hawks came back today. They call their hello to draw me out to them. They wait for me to come out and find them. I feel a connection to them. They are a juvenile pair of hawks. They come to my backyard, alleyway and neighboring properties to find food. This area is plentiful in rodents such as gophers. This morning the sky is overcast and misty-wet yet not too cold. I have not gotten dressed yet when I hear their cry so I hurry out the back slider in my robe and slippers attaching my camera to the tripod as I quietly emerge into their world. They are silent now, surveying the ground below them intently waiting for an opportunity to snatch up their next meal.




One is in a tree, the other is on a post some distance from his partner. At this point I’m not sure if they are siblings or mates. I am not an expert on hawk families. I do, however, sense that they depend on each other and trust each other.


They are serenely perched still scanning the ground. I have taken many pictures by now. I am still learning how to use the more sophisticated focus abilities of my camera, not getting the long distance shots focused quite right. I am ever as quiet as I can be and move slowly not to frighten them. They seem to feel at home here; to find breakfast, that is.

One of the hawks flies closer to me and lands on the top of a post just across the alleyway from my backyard gate. He is so beautiful, regal, proud yet still young. I sense the pair communicating. One flies to another perch on a neighboring fence. The one close to me leaves his perch and rises to the highest point atop a utility pole just to my right; still within the area of my back fence. What is it like to fly above everyone else and see from that vantage point the world? This is my thought as I watch his beautiful face as he takes in the sights from such a height.




Hopefully they have found their meal. Hopefully they will return for another meal. I keep my camera and tripod ready at all times to capture another adventure with them. It is not easy for me to take pictures. I have Parkinson’s. The tripod is a necessity for my shaky hands cannot capture a usable picture without it. I love photographing nature, especially birds. I find this experience to be a gift from God. I cannot venture into the wild, so God has brought me these two beautiful creatures to share a glimpse of their life with me.


To look at the face, the eyes of a hawk or any bird of prey, is to see courage, pride, and perfect beauty. They majestically command attention of all who observe them, prey or human. Their piercing cry is a sound that says, “Hear me, watch me, I will succeed, I am flying, I am important, I am God’s creation”. Whenever I hear it, a thrill of electricity runs through me. I do not have wings to fly but their plight is not unlike my own. I too have had to cry out “Hear me, watch me, I will succeed, I am still moving, I am important, I am God’s creation.” I too am young, only 48 and have been diagnosed with Parkinson’s for some 6 years now. I live every day relishing every experience, every moment, every detail. This pair of young hawks have been another testimony that life is not just a haphazard set of events but a beautiful symphony of music lessons; lessons for the soul. To spend these quiet, fleeting moments with my two hawks has been a wondrous addition to my life’s symphony.



I will watch for them every day as I have for the past two weeks when I saw them for the first time. If they don’t come back, I will hope that they have found a new home, a new field of rodents, a life of safety and fulfillment. If they come back, I will be overjoyed to welcome them and share more time….. with my friends. I am honored to be given this time with ‘my hawks’ as I call them.


I really owe this all to my dear husband who was the first to spot them as he always does. He quietly encourages me to photograph them and is very impressed with my pictures. Thanks Darling! So if you hear the cry of a hawk, think of me, a nobody, a woman with Parkinson’s- in Modesto who shared the lives of two beautiful birds in such a personal way. Look at the hawk you hear. In it you may see me soaring to new heights with courage and determination to find my next day, to keep my sanity.



1 comment:

Chad and Clair said...

You are not a nobody!! I'm glad you have found things that make you happy such as photography. The hawks are very pretty.