Written last night:
Zing and I drove to Davis, CA, around noon today so we will know the way when we go to the UC Davis Veterinary school Monday morning. The town is less than a half-hour from Sacramento, but a world different. I read somewhere it has 50,000 + residents, but it’s got the feel of a small college town. Very few stoplights, many four-way stop intersections. Blocks and blocks of busy shops and crowded on-street parking. Rows of charming apartments and houses. That’s what we drove through on the way out of town.
But first we headed to the vet school, which includes several large buildings (equine, small and large animal, etc.) and a people-sized animal hospital. It’s adjacent to an extensive garden with secluded paths and an arboretum. Zing and I couldn’t resist taking a long walk, which was wild with squirrels, and even one large rabbit hopped our way. We were in heaven. Before we headed home I took Zing to a dog park (Got to tire that dog out!) that was part of a grassy sports complex edged by an elementary and a high school. Duh! What a great location for schools. I chatted with Tina, an 81-year-old whose hands shook with Parkinson’s. She's a living history of the city of Davis, having been in real estate there 45 years. (She said she’s selling her last house right now.) She had much to say about the town’s development. Obviously, she loves the place. So do I.
Then -- you know how it is when you get home — packages and mail and dog collars and keys all need attention — so I was distracted when I walked into the bedroom to store a box of curtain hooks that had just arrived. As I walked across the room to put the box down, I glanced out the sliding glass door to the balcony. There, on my shabby rattan coffee table sat a large bird staring in at me. At first I thought it was an owl, and I stepped back to the bed and kept my eyes on it, motioning for Zing to stay back. He jumped up on the mattress with me and stared at the motionless bird. By this time tears were streaming down my face because I thought it was Clark returned to us in the guise of an owl. Then I realized it must be a hawk. I really didn’t care. For 20 minutes, or maybe a half-hour, I looked at the owl’s eyes and he looked (or seemed to) at me, and Zing stood motionless looking straight ahead as well. I have never gazed before, not really.
Finally I broke the spell and went for my camera and also my sketchbook; he/she was still there when I returned, so for another long time we stared at each other again.
Except for turning its head right and left to show off its formidable beak, the bird did not show any inclination to move, let alone leave.
I have to admit I couldn’t keep up the intensity, or maybe we’d be there still. I hadn’t had lunch, so I went out to the kitchen and opened a bag of popcorn. How low-life of me! When I looked out the window again, all I could see of the hawk was a clutch of feathers clinging to the railing.
Love,
k
No comments:
Post a Comment