Talons on the Stern Deck

You swoop out of the trees, across my shell, talons just skimming the stern deck, wings stretched wide.

You look as surprised as I am at our close encounter. With a small shift in your wings, you circle to the left, and fall in beside me, curious and wary. You are studying me. I am no longer alone.

I watch you as I row. Catch and finish. You watch me as you fly. Flap and glide. Our rhythms lock on in one synchronized pulsating motion. Your muscles tense with each flap of your wing, and release as you allow the airflow to carry your body along. My muscles contract with the press of the oars in the water, and release as the boat runs out underneath me.

For 300 meters, we move in sync, rower and osprey. Flap and glide, catch and fly. You look ahead, I look behind. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense your presence. Nature in motion. A kindred spirit.

The river bends to starboard. I press hard with my port oar. You shift your wings and stay beside me. A few more strokes and then you veer off to port, a solitary spirit, circling around behind me. I watch as you use the updraft to skim above the trees, finally disappearing from view.

I continue my own watery flight. Press and release. Catch and send. The boat feels lighter as I find that natural rhythm. The rowing is easier after following your smooth flight.

I gaze down and look where your talons skimmed across my stern deck. And silently thank you for the lesson.