Still prompted by the beauty of the hawk I saw hovering in the sky just one week ago,  on a beautiful evening similar to this one, and as we start tomorrow the celebration of  the Easter festival,  I am reminded of this poem by Jesuit poet Gerald Manley Hopkins.  He stands in awe of the mastery of the bird in the sky. Again, what looking at Nature shows us is an ability to abide  in the moment – to sweep on the air – without resisting it or over-analysing  it to see how we are doing. In this creatures such as the hawk are masters of their own nature and possess it in a way that we can only dream of:

I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
    dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
    Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
    As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
    Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
    Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
    Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.