Flying Free

The wind pushed hard against me, whipping my hair around the telescopic lens of Chanda while I tracked the hawk swooping in the sky above me.

He climbed then spread his wings freezing in mid flight as he caught the current and hovered riding it like an ocean surfer.



He dipped his head searching the waters below him for a tasty fish morsel that he could feast upon.



He poised, searched then turned and veered sharply, spreading his wings, pausing in mid hunt to dance with the wind.