Magazine Posts

#Sunset

A time to live,
A time to die.
A time for us,
For the long goodbye.

The wind was cold, on this day,
Swirling, gusts filled with white
Blossoms, from flowering trees,
That line the parking strip,
Outside Redmond Urgent Care.

I followed this guy about a quarter of a mile, from the ferry terminal to the fishing pier, until he rested on the breakwater. There were people around who noticed the eagle and remarked, "Lookit that bald eagle!" I thought, "Bald eagles never fail to conjure awe, no matter how many times you see them." Upon reaching the end of the pier, I sat my camera on the corner railing, got on my knees, and held the camera still. It would have been convenient to have had a tripod handy, as who knows how long it would take to be in this uncomfortable position.

As practice, I took many shots of him standing still. He’d look left, then right, then straight at me. Aside from the beeping of the auto-focus, only an occasional seagull could be heard. I didn't want to look around, for fear that the eagle would suddenly take flight. My left eye was pressed against the viewfinder, my right index finger lightly pressing the shutter button like a trigger-happy gunslinger.

As the hum of a Washington State Ferry came closer behind me, I hoped that it would spook the bird to fly. It didn't. The engine noise soon disappeared into the horizon.

My knees were starting to ache, but more importantly I was worried that my butt crack was showing.

After an hour, the bird crouched. I knew it was time. He started flapping his wings. I pressed the shutter button. Rapid shots. I whispered, "Yessssss!"

When the eagle had left, I didn't know which felt better: Capturing the bird in flight, or getting to stretch my legs. The hour of waiting and anticipating was actually only 15 minutes. But that wouldn't have sounded as dramatic.

Edmonds, 3-9-19
Camera: Sony A7iii
Lens: Sony FE3.5-6.3/24-240
240mm
1/800 shutter speed
f6.3
ISO400

Of moonlight and a rose
when you can suppose
about the life that you've led
without any dread.
No wonder, they'll say,
when you've gone away,
about the way you ran
and the type of a man
that cared for others,
both Sisters and brothers.

Words can be the most beautiful thing.
Their use, can make a heart sing,
But they can also cause, much pain
And a hurt, that will always remain.
Using words, should be about truth,
Not full of disdain, lying or uncouth.
Words, used in a sonnet, professing love
Is usually the best way, far and above,
Those utterances of hate and disdain,
When one hears a lie after lie refrain.
The changing of seasons, across Worlds wide
Describing the colors of Sunsets to remember,
Or the harshness of the month, December.
Only words can describe how we feel
Or what in life, is falsely surreal.
Words describe the beauty, that we see
And the feelings of love, that I have for thee.

The days grow long, as do I.
The dreams of yesterday, have gone by.
No longer the dreams to be.
Now gone, once more, for eternity.

My eyes are closed.
The void is black.
My arms are numb.
I've lost track,
Of the place I'm in.
I cannot say why,
But I suspect that
I'm about to die.
I hope I'm wrong,
But won't say goodbye,
For now I know,
As I let out a sigh.