This has become a habit of theirs. Since my habit is to spend evenings sitting outside, I've gotten to know many of them. There is a family of four that often come together. The young ones are getting bigger every day. There is a buck (I think) who looks as if his agouti coat has been dusted with charcoal so that he is nearly black. Another young
hare, a female I think, is very svelte and graceful and marked with white patches among her light gray agouti.

There is a huge community of Desert Cottontails on the property, too. Some of them have become so accustomed to my presence that they will graze the grass nearly at my feet when I am sitting quietly in the evening. I've gotten to know a few of them by sight, too.

My thoughts were following along this line - as I watched a couple of the Jacks do a graceful ballet dance that was maybe play, maybe courtship, perhaps a bit of both. It was then I realized that my neck and shoulders had relaxed. My mental pace had slowed to the liquid pace of warm honey as my attention focused entirely on the wildlife in front of me.

Nature is healing. She has her own pace, and invites you to join. Anytime you would like, she is there.

Even in this hectic period of my life, there is always a moment to pause and reconnect.

Filling the truck up with gas at the station, I heard a little commotion on the shade over the pumps. I stepped back just in time to see the pigeons there swirl into agitated motion. Two birds had suddenly swooped in from the north, one riding on the back of the other. As I got a better look I realized it was a pigeon, riding and clawing the back of a small falcon. The other pigeons rose and circled and joined in the fuss, screaming and diving at the predator. Overwhelmed and out numbered, the falcon streaked out of sight. The pigeons settled down and went back to business, cooing and strutting. The truck was full of gas, too.

I have cemented my reputation as an eccentric by taking time every single night to step into the parking lot where I work to stand and watch the Common Nighthawks swoop and dive for moths around our big lights. On the other hand, a few of my fellow employees have taken to standing there with me - even cheering one or another of these midnight athletes as they twist and turn in the air after a particular moth, and sharing in the never ending astonishment at these night flyers acrobatic abilities. A few minutes of this, and you've quite forgotten your endless list of to-dos inside. A ten-minute break can feel like stepping into another life. You return to work refreshed and wondering at
nature's marvels.

Maybe you are thinking, sure, it is easy to do this in a small town or on a ranch in Southern New Mexico - but I live in this or that big, busy city.

In answer, I point at the famous Peregrines nesting in New York City. Doesn't get much bigger or busier than that - and yet the residents have taken the time to enjoy them.

I used to live in a big city myself. Traveling down one of our busiest thoroughfares in slow stop and go rush hour traffic, I nevertheless noticed a huge bird flying above us. Craning my neck, I was able to see a Bald Eagle, cruising with majestic wings outspread, pacing the traffic. I was happy to be going slow enough to keep him in sight for many minutes.

So today keep your eyes open, be alert and aware of your surroundings. Give yourself a moment to pause and reconnect - you'll be glad you did.