A journal entry from a few years back:
Hanging in the sunny back yard with Angelcat this AM, I spotted what could be a large bird in the redwood tree across the street. I went inside to get my binoculars, expecting to be disappointed. Sometimes it’s a bird; sometimes it’s a hanging branch that’s been knocked loose in a storm. But oh, this morning it was a hawk—a red tail I soon discovered when it turned to preen.
I had other things to do! But I wanted to see it fly. I wanted it to be as impatient as I was to get on with its day. I thought about getting my camera, my notebook, a more comfortable chair, but I didn’t want to risk missing anything. I berated myself for not being satisfied with the experience itself. I wondered if this is what heaven is like—you know—they tell you you’ll be happy just being in the presence of the Lord, but you worry you’ll get bored.
So I sat on an uncomfortable wooden bench and waited for 30 to 40 minutes. Then a second hawk called out from the direction of the river levee and the first one took flight. I was rewarded for my stillness (I won’t credit myself with patience) as the hawks glided in curving figure 8’s around each other for a few minutes. My friend from the tree even circled directly over my head a few times. Spectacular! What a great planet this is!