We were taking an aerial tramway ride back down from 10, 378 feet above sea level from the summit of Sandia Peak to Albuquerque, New Mexico over the Cibola National Forest when I spotted a hawk that appeared to be riding the cable up to the peak.
How ironic, I thought. I’d been birding at the peak, counting my species and entering them into eBird, using Merlin ID to help lead me to the trees where they sang their identifying birdcalls. I’m always on the lookout for larger birds. I’d seen a Road Runner under a picnic table seeking shade from the brutal heat in Palo Duro Canyon State Park in Texas the day before, and after peering into all the trees and in the air for signs of these majestic soaring birds of prey, here was one comically riding the cable up to the top as I descended.
That’s my mama, I chuckled. She comes to me on wings. A bird in the depths of a canyon one day, and a bird in the heights on a peak the next. Three vultures when I’d prayed for the reassurance of an eagle at her burial.
“Is that a bird riding the cable?” I heard someone ask the tram operator.
“Oh, yes. That’s our resident hawk. He likes to ride the cable,” she explained. “When wildlife below falls beneath the shadow of the tram car, it scares his prey out of hiding. They run, and he swoops down for a fast-food-lunch. Makes his hunting easier.”
He gives the drive-thru a whole new perspective from the avian angle.
He also demonstrates his experience and intelligence. Here’s a bird who has figured out how to let a shadow do his heavy lifting while he sits and waits.
I’m inspired to think of all the times I make things so much harder than they have to be, when perhaps some creative thinking and a little patience would serve me well.
Which may be exactly what Mama was showing me.
Common Threads 