You can see the fish dangling from the beak of this brave bird who nearly brushed me with his wings as he swooped in for his desayuno.
Click on photos to enlarge.
Lift
You burn the air with tail and wing,
not thinking about anything.
Each lift of pinion simple, sure,
anonymous, unplanned and pure.
No slipshod planning, everything
insures facility of wing.
Each barb, each shaft composed with care
made less of matter than of air.
We only guess. We do not know,
what hand has engineered it so,
merely wonder at its might
as we watch your easy flight,
lifting up with ease most rare
by miracle of wing on air.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
It is miraculous indeed
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It is true that birds’ wings are composed mainly of air held in the spaces between shafts.
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Fascinating.
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Magnificent photos and a wonderful poem to go with it, well done.
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Thanks, Mason. (bow)
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From the sound of hawks/crows/ravens to the quiet of great blue herons, the sound and sight of birds in flight has long intrigued me. Your photos are superb, as id your descriptive poem! Thank you for sharing these!
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I watched a lot of birds at Dana Pt. I know you have, too.
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Absolutely — the harbor is a great place to watch shore birds of all types, and they’re all beautiful!
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The last line of this poem captures the magic of watching birds in flight. Also,
Is the caracara bird really the eagle of Mexico?
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It is often called a Mexican eagle, but it is actually a falcon.
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