Sunday, November 14
Fly like a...
We drove over to Fort Collins (from the edge of nowhere to almost somewhere!) to check out some furniture. We're looking for a bookcase or something to hold our CDs, so the new dog doesn't chew them up (as he likes to do). Something with doors, you know. We made many stops. We got hungry. We got trapped by a stepford designer. We couldn't agree on food, but all that's another story. This story is about what we saw on the way there, when we were still cheerful and happy to get out of town.
Anyway, driving north out of town, across the river, through the yellow corn fields (they still haven't cut it -- and it's so late in the year I asked my pal Jared over at the Colorado Corn Association what the deal was, and it said it's because the corn is still too wet, he gave me some stat that it's at point three-two now and it needs to get down to point one eight or point one five, we think it's some sort of water-content measurement, but then both he and I are California suburban kids) and the plowed onion fields and the gray trimmed alfalfa fields with both kids and a friend in the back, Kristen spies high above the country road (remember, this is farm country, so because we're driving north, you can know we're on an odd-numbered road, CR 31 in this case) a large, dark winged raptor.
"Hey," she says. "Is it?"
We all stare up, in my case leaning in over the blue steering wheel to look up. We get closer, and sure enough, it is. Eagle eye, our son, confirms it. And he's a huge one. The first bald eagle sighting of the year in these parts. Winter's here, or at least getting closer, even if the calendar still says fall and the sunny 59 degrees doesn't feel like it.
Anyway, driving north out of town, across the river, through the yellow corn fields (they still haven't cut it -- and it's so late in the year I asked my pal Jared over at the Colorado Corn Association what the deal was, and it said it's because the corn is still too wet, he gave me some stat that it's at point three-two now and it needs to get down to point one eight or point one five, we think it's some sort of water-content measurement, but then both he and I are California suburban kids) and the plowed onion fields and the gray trimmed alfalfa fields with both kids and a friend in the back, Kristen spies high above the country road (remember, this is farm country, so because we're driving north, you can know we're on an odd-numbered road, CR 31 in this case) a large, dark winged raptor.
"Hey," she says. "Is it?"
We all stare up, in my case leaning in over the blue steering wheel to look up. We get closer, and sure enough, it is. Eagle eye, our son, confirms it. And he's a huge one. The first bald eagle sighting of the year in these parts. Winter's here, or at least getting closer, even if the calendar still says fall and the sunny 59 degrees doesn't feel like it.
