Red Tail

Yesterday morning, on my drive from home to the flats.. just outside of Nederland...crazy mountain town camouflaging as a sleepy hideaway...my car is sandwiched between the overly-full reservoir and the rocks, when something catches my eye...Red Tail...has swooped low, crosses right in front of me and dips his wings close to my open window...as if he wants to talk. This, I know, is the unmistakable call to find the nearest spot to stop and see what hawk has to say. Finding a suitable area a few feet ahead, I get out and begin to whistle...another kind of whistle...not to warn of danger but to acknowledge him...show respect...send thoughts. Red Tail flies over me, goes a little past me and starts circling. As the whistling continues he comes directly over my head and resumes circling...occasionally dipping his massive wings to maneuver higher or lower...then moves off a few feet to the north. When he hits the sun at a certain angle, I can see right through the redness of his tail. I stop whistling momentarily and switch to words...verbalizing the thoughts...and he stops circling and looks like he's ready to head out. So...I silence my words and start whistling...to say goodbye and thanks...and suddenly...he stops his departure flight and begins circling overhead again...as if not to depart in the middle of a conversation... Amazed, I realize what has happened...that he'll stop and listen if I have more to say...in language he can understand...but just to make sure...I switch to words once more. Red Tail stops circling and speeds off...lesson given...fast and straight to his own destination. Seconds later...he's only a memory.
Red Tail stopped to show me...another part to the art of communicating...the importance of listening and watching for cues...and of having something to say...if you're going to take someone's time...but most importantly...of finding a way to communicate in language the one you're trying to say it to...can understand...