What a wonderful morning of golf. 53 year old Greg Norman led coming in to this Sunday, but faltered and was overtaken by Padraig Harrington who played beautifully. His approach shots on 17 and 18 were stunning. Brave, gutsy and surely the shots a champion has in the bag. Fuck, do I wanna golf.
After Padraig secured the jug, I strolled out into the back yard and witnessed a bit more beauty. It's a lovely, sunny day here and the yard is awash in tittering butterflies. I love their fragile beauty, and they often leave me spellbound. The yard of late has been home to an owl, some bats, and a wandering cat who likes to beat on Hiram. Hiram at the moment is keeping a low profile, scared senseless from the beating he apparently took last night.
Back to the yard though. On my post Open Championship stroll, I noticed a twitter that was no butterfly. It was, in fact, two pairs of Rufus Hummingbirds working some of the many flowers that frame the yard. I inched forward on my crutches, bit by bit. I was quiet and slow and got to within five feet of where they were feeding. They spooked, and took of momentarily to roost and check me out. They soon returned to the same plant and had their fill. I was so close I could see the whites of their eyes. I had no idea hummingbirds even had whites around their corneas. It was an amazing moment until Bailey spotted her 'Rope,' and feeling ingnored - just had to attack it. Stupid dog. Ruined a perfectly surreal moment; one of those moments when you feel a part of something larger, a kinship with the world in which we make this journey.
All in all, a great moment, a great morning, and another great Open championship.
3 comments:
Was there a golf game this weekend?
Not that you would have noticed - sure there were grossly overweigh, overpaid men sitting about and then attempting to hit a ball over a fence
Your description of the type of players fits golfers more than ball players, except they were trying to hit a ball into a hole.
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