Gazing


Rush Ranch 



I spend time everyday to contemplate and write. I spend time almost everyday taking photos and video. Most of the time I gaze.

My picture window is not the front window of a house or the back window looking into the garden below.

My window changes frequently throughout the day as we move along the back roads. This afternoon my window looks out to the Pacific Ocean. The white caps burst through the grey mist heading to the cliffs below. I look up from my writing to witness a young osprey fly by with a small fish, maybe an anchovy clutched between deadly claws. Raptors have no mercy. They hunt. They kill.  They eat. They are beautiful in their silence.

As I gaze I listen to the music of the waves crashing, the wind howling, the cars starting their engines-most visitors cannot stay still long unless picnicking or barbecuing,  and the gulls screaming as they hover and land more agile than any man made flying machine.

Another day. Another time. Another window to see from. Old windmills that turned back in time standing today looking over straw covered grass carpeting fields holding black angus and fleets of prairie birds. 

I never tire of gazing out my window. 


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