Eagle, Seagull, Beetle, Hawk

Today at park yoga with Eddie I saw an eagle fly over our group.  “An eagle!” I exclaimed pointing at the sky.

And then I second-guessed myself, my story being that I’m a gas guzzling city-slicker who doesn’t know from eagles, doesn’t know from animal medicine, is way too disconnected from the woo to get amped about gifts from nature, sounds of birds chirping, owls hooting, waves crashing.

“I don’t know, maybe it was a seagull,” I said, saving face - which face - that city face, that so-called sophisticated face. Hiding the other face — the innocent face, the face of the one who is enchanted at simple mysteries.  And then I looked down at my mat and saw what looked like some kind of beetle, and my brain said, “Ewww!” and flicked it away.

And then my other brain said, “What the heck, you just delighted at a maybe eagle, felt sad at a maybe seagull, and repulsed by a maybe beetle. In like, twelve seconds, not even.”

So up dog, down dog, left arm, right arm, I’m gonna keep going.

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Ps. At lunch with Jule and Alethia I was told there are almost no eagles near where we live (as if they know.  Maybe they do).  So now I’m certain it was a hawk.  And I am pleased.  For now.