August 2, 2014

Watering, when din in the air made me look up. A peregrine falcon brought a starling down in the yard. She spread her striped wings and fought the bird while other starlings mobbed the scene. Finally she let go, and the lucky starling zoomed past my head into the hollies. Then the falcon went above the great pine, circling and circling, majestic even if hungry.

Mary Grant is our new chancellor. Her photo from her old job is pretty. Other than that, it means nothing to me yet.

Curious, rather dark dreams, all of which seemed to have done with concealing or destroying documents, with trying not to be found out. My waking conscience is clear; I must have done something seamy in the unconscious.

Thought from time to time in the night of the falcon slumbering wild-eyed in my pine tree.