The majestic snag, a Douglas fir, towered over everything— more like a giant pedestal than a tree, long ago having dropped most of her branches. She had snapped at the top, leaving an ideal setting for an osprey nest. The enormous nest was her crown, around which the great birds circled — circled with heavy trout in their talons, circling and circling to gain elevation — slowly. They circled through the seasons, too, migrating away in fall and returning in spring. There was no doubt that this tree and this drama encircled the World, enveloping everyone and everything in their narrative poem. At the center of this narrative were the fledglings who, year after year, for the very first time, pushed out of that nest and fell into flight— never knowing how it might go.
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Again, gorgeous James.
Loving the poetry. Thank you.