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!