The Counterpoint To A Faceless Storm
Standing in one spot waiting for a photo opportunity is one thing. Standing in a snow storm where at times visibility is questionable is another. When this magnificent creature emanated from the murky scape, its outline was vaguely defined. Was it real or a figment? Then the falling snow lightened. What came out of the storm was a creature on passage.
In the fury of the storm
Little seems of solid form
Just a sea of shapeless white
Blowing left and flowing right
Whirls and whips the aerial sea
A tumult in reality
Slowly, though, a form takes shape
Within the hoary-mantled drape
A feathered beast of royal form
The counterpoint to a faceless storm
~ Anecdote, poem and Bald Eagle capture, The Counterpoint To A Faceless Storm © Jerry L. Ferrara