The crow I saw flicking its tail on the blackthorn branch
turned out to be a kestrel, resting, waiting for a hare
or rabbit to emerge and offer it some breakfast. A bird
can see things we can only understand through science
and layers of refracting lenses adjusting and readjusting
to every shift in circumstance. Albrecht Durer’s famous
drawing of a hare doesn’t begin to capture the molten
perfection of a kestrel’s focus. Imagine money being
laundered through the banks of London until all that remains
of blood is a tiny smudge on the corner of one banknote
.
Steven Taylor
.