Pelicans and Kites

 I gaze into the middle distance as I cut my way along a straight ribbon of bitumen for two hours a day. Basalt plains that flatten the mind. Landscape that flattens the perspective and soars with muted winter hues. I cross the border lands between two ancient tribes. Crows and magpies are a constant presence everywhere but now also Pelicans are a regular feature,  coming into view on the horizon, in flat formation cruising low enough almost to touch. Small raptors of some sort populate the bitumen's edge and the median strip aswell. Hovering with their dart like talons extend toward the earth. Occasionally one appears in the rear view mirror, wings aflutter. Then,  its wings stop. It hangs there momentarily, before plummeting like a spear towards its unseen prey.