My Little Golden Book of Phobias

When I can, like today, I stay in bed and drag the NYT with me and the latest SUN and read. The window is open, I can hear a bird at the top of the tallest tree and the traffic has nothing to do with me. I answer the phone if I want. I can see eagles circling in the skylight. Swallows just crossed together. Birds are flying everywhere with bits of fluff in their beaks.

When I was on retreat in California, I climbed the very steep, tall hills until I got to the ridge. I could see the Golden Gate bridge and the Richmond bridge and the water... Along the ridge line was a fence and at one end sat the vultures and ravens. I got so close to them I almost touched them. They swiveled their heads and slowly opened their massive wings and launched, floating on the thermals. I could sense flying, opening to the free fall as they tipped and turned their wings slightly, moving up and down in the shadowy depressions looking for lunch.  They were a constant presence during the retreat, circling over and over high above us as we did walking meditation.