Northern Harrier (Circus cyaneus)

Stood for a moment among the red pines today. My brother, Doug, planted them over 50 years ago at the edge of a drop-off. They now are straight rows of large mature trees which dominate the top of the ridge. They've made their own mini-environment. The air there is pine-scented. Only plants that can contend w/ the acidic soil grow underneath them. While balsams nearby fell in the windstorms this fall, these trees seem to protect each other. Red-breasted nuthatches started scolding me for intruding on their territory and Indy came loping back wondering why I had stopped walking. Guess some places just seem special.