Eagles prowl over a huge colony of wild geese resting in a waterhole. The camera points at a raptor holding a shredded bird between its legs. He drops it, a younger eagle catches up with the prey and then jumps up, passes the other and leaves it, in turn, for his companion to catch it. The lesson continues as follows. It is both a game and an exercise. The adult sees to the fate of his offspring.
Below, the geese continue their activities, knowing that they no longer have anything to fear. The eagles got what they wanted.
The images of the PBS report are striking. That very morning, I was reading about the fierce energies of the center of our only galaxy fighting like mythical titans while, on its periphery, a small bluish stone teems with a strong, dynamic, violent and transient life.
Just this morning, a friend told me about a necessary rest period, because he works too hard. Another anguish because a cat on the roof was driven out of its den. Elsewhere, as we know, madmen want to put God on their side by savagely murdering souls. The Earth is a crystal of torment and beauty.
At home, in me, zones of calm and storms. My gaze constantly captures the motionless geometries of the passing time. It may be that a black hole is attacking my destiny right now, it may be that a star is coming to illuminate or set fire to my sky.
It may be. Nothing is taken for granted. I let go as if I could only be a poet subjected to the scent of ignorance.