well, i read the bird report and i wasn't in it for good or ill 
unless hidden in a passage about peregrines and kestrels but probably not. 
if so i would be the american kestrel, littlest of falcons, but by far the most colorful, 
and the stern photog with the super-telephoto lens would be the peregrine.  
but who's comparing. 
the birders were talking birds i'm sure.  
and this day i was meant to go the the inland sea, not the claustrophobic island, 
and i think the recent ferocious wind and the pressure on that dot of nature to survive 
is what makes me anxious, that and the supercilious wardens with long lenses 
or other utensils, and occasional safari hats. 
i noted this time, the nature policeman was separate, and i too was separate,
(somewhere in there our common differences, perhaps to explore further), 
while mister was wagging through the throng 
like it was his coming out party. i observed, smiling at the scene, but abstracted,
and soon peeled off.  
and then the nature po-po singled me out after the garden.  
it occurs to me now i was afraid, as i am afraid of all rulists, for they want to rule,
and i fear rule like spirit annihilation,
and after-all they have the full force of the law 
behind their stiff backside facades.  
and i may have been intimidated by his long lens.  
my lens is diminutive. 
anyway i am somewhat embarrassed still, wondering what the ones i care about 
think of me now. ah, but, though i was a bit reactive, it was i who was provoked, 
albeit in a stealthy silent self-righteous manner upheld by civil law, he said feebly,
and stalked as by human drone. you see the explosion in the target.
it is more than enough.