The other day I sat outside enjoying the sunset and as I looked to the sky a shock went through my body. There in the heavens above me was my bird. It was the eagle and the dove combined in a cloud. My friend came out of the house and I immediately asked her if she saw what I saw, then I told her about my dream.

The image of a dove doesn’t have much strength anymore in the world does it? The eagle gets a hard time about being a symbol of too much strength and quite frankly I haven’t been canoeing in years but I do like staring at the sky.

If what I am saying makes no sense to you, read my previous post. It’s short so don’t complain.

I’ve decided I’m declaring a new species called the Doveagle. No it isn’t native to California but someone smuggled one in on a Virgin America flight from JFK and it likes the weather here for breeding.

Still confused? Me too. But it seems to me that it takes the strength and nobility of an eagle and the gentle naiveté of a dove to live in today’s world with any elegance or self-respect.

I’m substituting a paddle board for the canoe – it’s too hard to launch a canoe in Malibu.