His extended wings momentarily block the sun setting his feather tips ablaze. His vermillion talons grasp the waiting branch threatening to break it from the tree unless is bends to his will. His curved beak arches against an orange sky holding tightly to the retreating sun. I can only watch a majestic moment and believe that somewhere the must be a God for nature alone could not conceive of a creature of such beauty, such passion.
We do not like to admit that nature laughs at us as we pretend to bend her to our will and desires.
We dam and reroute rivers, but the river knows well that it will return, flow where it wishes, for it will be here long after we have returned to the soil.
Still, now and again nature grows weary with our meddling and unleashes her fury in ways we are incapable of stopping, and laughs when we seek divine intervention from the utter depths of our powerlessness.
The cat is stalking around the house, wary. She gets this way after coming back from the vet. She actually likes the vet, and not only for the treats she gets, and the pawdicure. But she must stalk and be wary so we will be remorseful for having taken her to the vet. And she knows we will be, given enough time and back turning. We are so predictable. She wonders if we were like that with our children when they were young. Probably, but we must have forgotten. So she will go on with our training, for a cat must bend humans to her will. That is an unwritten law of nature.