Bird's eye view

I have not written in... forever.

Well, in well over a month.

I have no excuse. No reason. Other than life.

Which is no excuse.

Cuz I write in my head virtually 24 hours a day. Only I don't always do anything with it. On paper.

Or electronically.

I was sitting on this bench late this afternoon. In the cemetery. Up on the hill overlooking the village below and the river and the bridge.

I don't think this was the same bench, but I do remember my mother taking me on a picnic when I was about two. And we were sitting in the same place, more or less. On this hilltop, in the cemetery, overlooking the village and the river and the bridge. I am not sure why we went on a picnic together. Perhaps because it was a beautiful day and a beautiful view. I do remember the cookies we had. Store bought, but with marshmallow and cookie and covered in chocolate. Why do I remember this? I have no idea. Was this right before my baby sister was born?

Or after?

I suppose I could ask my mother. Who is 82. But I doubt she will remember this picnic.

I sat on the bench today and watched birds gliding overhead. Big birds. Big enough that their gliding reminded me of learning to fly glider planes at the Air Force Academy.

When I first saw these birds, I thought they were bald eagles. But that is because I am an idealist. Then I thought they were hawks of some sort. Because I live in the real world, and I am expected to be practical.

Then, I saw them sitting atop a tree with a yellow band of tape around its trunk. This yellow band of tape means the tree has been marked for cutting down. For disposal. And it upset me that all the upper branches were currently occupied by bald eagles. Errr, I mean hawks.

Or whatever.

I looked closely again, and then it dawned on me that these birds were probably vultures. Looking for carrion.

Because anyone who is an idealist for too long ultimately turns into a cynical pessimist.

Honestly, I had to wonder if these birds were wild turkeys. Which I see running rampant throughout the cemetery. But I am not sure that they can fly. Or roost atop high trees. And wild turkeys give me the heeby-geebies. Because I had a very bad encounter with Wild Turkey in high school. And because I read about these overly aggressive birds attacking people willy-nilly in our parks and public areas.

I don't usually write my blog postings stream of consciousness. But maybe I should. Maybe I would get more postings done that way. Because Lord knows I do not have a dearth of things to talk/write about!