THE SPORT OF FALCONRY

We stopped into a funky little store in Pescadero for an ice cream cone, and were surprised to see the young man behind the counter holding a hooded falcon on his hand. Never having seen a falcon up close and personal, we were fascinated with the creature. The young man was a member of a falconry club and introduced us to his feathered friend as long as we kept our distance, which I was happy to do after taking a look at his extremely long and sharp toenails.

Falconry is the hunting of wild quarry by means of a trained bird of prey. The art of falconry may have begun some 4,000 years ago in China or Mongolia as the falcon was a symbolic bird of ancient Mongol tribes. Traditional falconry knowledge probably spread into Europe during wars in Arabic countries. Today, there are falconry clubs all over the world.

In nomadic societies like the Bedouin, it was not practiced for recreation. Instead, the birds were trapped and hunted on small game during winter months in order to supplement a very limited diet.

Finishing our ice cream, the young falconer told us that ‘If he doesn’t feel like hunting, he won’t. People think birds like to fly, but they only do it to get something to eat.’ That may be true, but I still like to think the small birds visiting our birdbath are having a good time.

“The King’s Falconer” watercolor painting by kayti sweetland rasmussen

This painting of the falcon and his uncompromising companion was done from a black and white photo of my aunt and uncle, who lived in Saudi Arabia for many years.

WANNA BUY A CAR?

I don’t understand the automobile business.  The lots stack up with cars nobody can afford to buy, and they still make more.

We witnessed the death of an automobile the other day.  The young man across the street finally said farewell to the old clunker he kept parking on our side of the street.  Sad for him, happiness for us.

He needed a ride to a car lot, so we drove him to a couple so he could look at used cars.  They don’t call them just “used” anymore though; now they are “gently used”, but the price is still ridiculous.

While he was checking them out, even taking one for a quick test drive, Dr. Advice, who is a great conversationalist, picked out a likely young salesman to talk to.  When I heard him ask the kid what kind of education he had, I thought ‘ OMG, here we go again, trying to save the young man for a better job.’

After gauging his education, home life and possibilities, he asked him for his card and said he’d see if he knew someone who he could get in touch with.  Naturally, the salesman had thought here was a likely old gent to whom he could sell a new car.  He had no idea who he was dealing with.

Of course, the good Dr. has been retired for nearly 25 years, so I’m not sure who he was having him call on.  He just can’t help trying to save the world.

I, on the other hand, am a mean spirited realist, and told him on the way home that maybe he actually liked what he was doing, or just posssibly he had found the perfect job for his capabilities.

Meanwhile, a purchase had been made, and the happy owner of a nice looking five year old Ford something-or-other had driven off.  We stopped for an ice cream cone on our way home and I smilingly assured Dr. Advice that at least we won’t have that old clunker parked on our side of the street any more.