My friends: 

This evening, I give you the words of a poet to accompany these photos of a splendid creature to which my friend Laurie Crosson Erceg alerted me as it hovered on a pole high above the community building at Park Delta Bay. 

Though the picture speaks for itself, Tennyson’s short, powerful piece seems fitting.

Enjoy.

It’s the tenth day of the sixty-second month of My [Endless] Year [Learning to Live] Without Complaining.  Life continues.

The Eagle
BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring’d with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

 

 

P.S. Yes, I know this is not an eagle.  And I live not by the sea but in a river delta below sea level.