Flying High

It's not often that one can look down upon a soaring hawk. We were on a cliff in Greenbank on Whidbey Island, looking down upon the Admiralty Inlet, when a red-tailed hawk flew between us and the water. Be still, my little heart. What a show! Never before have I seen the bird's red tail like this.

I am the eagle, I live in high country
In rocky cathedrals that reach to the sky
I am the hawk and there's blood on my feathers
But time is still turning, they soon will be dry
And all of those who see me, all who believe in me
Share in the freedom I feel when I fly

Come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops
Sail o'er the canyons and up to the stars
And reach for the heavens and hope for the future
And all that we can be and not what we are
- John Denver