Life on the Edge

Two days ago, while simultaneously washing the dishes and looking out the window above the kitchen sink (great skill required to "feel" the dirt while looking elsewhere), a Scarlet Robin came and perched himself on the loosely balanced stones that sit atop the large guardian stone. I say "himself" because the female of this species is less brightly coloured in the breast and has no black colouring. How delicate, I thought, to be able to land on these three stones that a puff of wind could knock over (which happens). What the photo doesn't show is the top stone gently rocking whilst the bird is perched on it. What analogy this brings to mind, maybe, you the reader, can tell me. And then yesterday, on my way to the beach there were two eagles flying/gliding side by side above the dunes, capturing the uplifting draft caused by gale force on shore winds. Hiding behind a bush to escape notice I watched them for several minutes. One bird seemed especially to like to do acrobatic manoeuvres in the air, shooting upward then folding his/her wings and then plummeting back down in a sort of reverse circle. This eagle would occasionally "bump" into the other, more stationary eagle and the two would fall together, talons clasped, then break off and resume their respective "side by side" sharing of the air space. At first I thought this might be some sort of mating ritual. But, quickly, I realised I was looking at both a white bellied sea eagle and a wedge tailed eagle; normally, mortal enemies, very protective of their territory. What to make of this? Why the seeming indifference? Why the tolerance? Something to do with the burning of the Peace Fire for two years? Maybe, maybe not. The sea eagle flew off due east and the wedge tail due west.