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August 1-4, 2005


Little 'Fat' Boy. Found him eating a very large rat around 5:30PM on the ground near the CPW wall at 62nd Street. Could not confirm how he got it. Soon after he hopped into a shrub and uttered the sound that I've only ever heard in adults--the familiar 'keeerrrr'!. I was very surprised to hear such an adult sound coming from a baby which until now, has only been uttering the crying sound.


Recently one of the things I look forward to most on my daily visits to the Columbus Circle hawk watching area, is seeing little five year old Maggie stroll by with her dad or mom. Maggie is a big fan of all the animals especially the hawks. She became an even bigger pal of mine when she told me that she thinks all animals should be free and she does not like to see the horses pulling the carriages.
On Tuesday evening, she passed by when I was up on the arch next to the West Drive and she called out to me from down the hill. She could not stick around that evening so I could only wave to her and then I watched her mosey up the walkway always stopping to say hi to a squirrel or to pick up a leaf along the way.
Yesterday she had time to spare, so she stopped by the freshly painted benches that had their backs to the little boy hawk who after swallowing his rat settled onto a firm limb high up on a sycamore tree and took a little daytime snooze. She had a little difficulty seeing through someone’s binoculars;
“All I see is a black thing!” she said with a disappointed tone. I gave her my own binoculars and she had the same experience. I then looked at her two little round eyes that were set perfectly on her small sweet face, and I squeezed the lenses of the binoculars as close as they would go, to match the spacing between the two bright hazel pools that looked up at me.
“Now I see him!” she declared with delight. She glued her eyes to the snoozing little stinker high up in the sycamore tree and all I could see was the corner of her smile leaking out from under the binoculars. She told me she bought a small album to put all the pictures I gave her and was happy to receive another I had of the two new baby hawks when they were seven days old.
“I know a little girl who has to go home and have a bath and some dinner right now,” said her father. Maggie looked to her left and then to her right and didn’t appear to see any such little girl. She took another look at the sleeping baby hawk and soon after shook my hand and promised to stop by again the next day.
I stayed on the bench late into the evening and watched the baby hawk settle into another tree close by where it huddled into itself for its real sleep for the night. I leaned back and watched the light fade from its body until its outline became one with the leaves and even longer until the leaves were barely visible.
I walked out onto the plaza at Columbus Circle and looked up at the new big red CNN sign with its video display so bright that it blasted all the trees in the park. I looked over to my right as I endured the weight of all my gear on my back and watched the massive Time-Warner center—it’s top floors disappeared into the hot summer sky. I imagined that on the entire building there wasn’t the smallest ledge for a pigeon to take shelter for the night. A pristine building like that may not have a single living animal in it except for the live ones they keep fresh for someone’s dinner or maybe a fancy pet if they’re allowed. I felt so happy that there still existed a place like Central Park in Manhattan where a wild animal could still find a place to eat and sleep and shade their eyes with real leaves from a real tree from bright rude lights like the CNN sign.
As I walked further away from the park and its beautiful trees and animals on my way home, I weaved my way through a sea of people. I searched their faces to see if any had the slightest bit of beauty like the kind I saw on Maggie’s face. However, most of the faces I saw were obscured by thick veils of cigarette smoke, their ears were disconnected from the world with plugs connected with wires and their eyes squinted as they were compelled to stare at bright red advertising signs. After crossing 59th Street I was forced to slow my pace because there were two heavily overweight police officers in from of me. Their weapons and paraphernalia hung waywardly around their bulging waists and a cigarette glowed from one of their hands. At 58th Street a tattered man hoisted an enormous boom box on his shoulder after adjusting the volume at its loudest then he leisurely strolled down Broadway. A big black SUV raced by and drowned the boom box with its own blasting music. At 57th Street a pack of motorcyclists blared across the intersection and generated enough noise to silence everything else around. I searched the ledges over the pharmacy to see if I could see one pigeon or a single sparrow still stirring so that I could be assured there was at least a rational life form within the reach of my eye.
Closer to my block I found one pigeon asleep on a scaffold near 56th Street. His feathers were grimy and I’m sure it’s stomach cringed with hunger but it still managed to find a place to fall into a peaceful sleep for the night. Having not been able to find a single savory face amongst the vagrant alcoholics, nicotine addicts, schemers, pick-pocketers, mindless wanderers, louts and hoodlums, I steered my thoughts over to Maggie.
I imagined her freshly bathed and dined, and tucked into bed dressed in an outrageously adorable nightgown after she meticulously placed her new picture into her album and having discussed the agenda for tomorrow’s visit to the park with both Mom & Dad. I am sure she fell asleep in perfect tune with the baby hawks in the trees and all the baby animals that spring has blessed this cold hard city with this year.
Deep inside of Pale Male & Lola and every squirrel and raccoon and moth and sparrow and frog of Central Park, new babies are stirring and yearning to be born. They are anxious because the Universe is telling them that people like Maggie, and Yuma, and Alex, and John, and Ford, and Madeline, and Noelle, and so many other blessed kids, will all be around to welcome them into the world.







The Little Boy trying to digest his large rat.






You can email me here: lincoln@palemale.com



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Pale Male & Lola Update

Pale Male Jr. Update


"What is it all about, I wonder?"










Late on Tuesday evening he flew from tree to tree as his parents flew together above him.






You can email me here: lincoln@palemale.com



Click image above for older photographs


Pale Male & Lola Update

Pale Male Jr. Update




The Little Boy eats eagerly but not greedily. He is answering a call deep inside him. His food was an animal that led a free life and had an opportunity to see the sun, feel the wind and lie on the soft warm earth. Today after only a few moments of horror for that pigeon, the sunlight faded from his eyes, and the coolness of the wind gradually was not felt on his wings anymore. Late this evening his short struggle with Pale Male Jr. relaxed, and every nerve in his body withdrew and ceased to create the illusion of life for him. If there was any awareness present after that ending moment for this pigeon he would have used it to see that he was becoming part of another beautiful being, and soon he will see the light of the sun in his eyes once more, and he will feel the cool wind on his face again. The wonderful cycle of life would be revealed to him and that tiny moment of horror would never be remembered.
Today two months worth of small, humble animals are all nicely packed into this beautiful hawk above. Judging by the graceful way this little boy flies, and seeing how the sun wraps its rays around him, I feel like they are all at peace inside his body—the gentle rats, the unassuming pigeons, and the innocent starlings are all agreeably united in their new life as a boisterous little raptor staking claim to a little piece of The Big Apple at Columbus Circle.
Monday August 1, 05





Pale Male Jr. takes a moment to relax after delivering food to his little boy - Monday August 1, 2005


You can email me here: lincoln@palemale.com



Click image above for older photographs


Pale Male & Lola Update

Pale Male Jr. Update

Chick #2, the little boy, (hatched June 4, 05; fledged July 22, 05; the smaller of the two chicks and believed to be male because of its size) was constantly harassed by several robins and squirrels this evening - Sunday July 31, 05


For the first time, both chicks were see today at their closest (~100') on either side of the bend in The West Drive near Columbus Circle - Sunday July 31, 05.


The big girl (hatched June 2, 05; fledged July 21, 05; the bigger (and older) of the two chicks and believed to be female because of her larger size), sits and wonder why every time she flies down to the ground to play with the cute little baby squirrels they run away and leave her all alone.
Food delivered to her by Junior today was quickly taken to another tree to be eaten, but as soon as she began to eat it, she accidentally dropped it and immediately began crying for more - Sunday July 31, 05.


She can be easily distinguished by a large white spot (yamaka) on her head - Sunday July 31, 05.




If I ever escaped the confinements of the human form and found myself wandering in oblivion in search of a new life, and if I had free choice of which that new life were to be, I will wish that my wandering land me here on the muddy edge of this very pond standing put on this bed of damp moss and decaying twigs, only for a small chance to befriend this humble fellow mammal.
If she accepts me as her friend, I will do my best to comfort her and ask her forgiveness of the human race for banishing her and mistreating her for all these centuries. I will beg that she allow me to walk with her through all her favorite places along the bank of the pond and forage and sip water together so that our mouths could meet and so I could look more closely into her eyes and admire her true beauty. I would never encourage her to drop her guard against the human trespassers, however I’ll teach her to convert her fear for them into pity.
I will ask to touch her hands and feel her fingers and marvel how closely they resemble mine when I was a human. She may allow me to put my hand on her chest and feel her warm blood and beating heart. I may get an opportunity to follow her to her home and see her eager young babies anxious to suck milk from her body and be comforted that their mother is safely back home to be close to them.
And some force may ask me if I’m sure that this is indeed the new life that I really want, and I’ll confirm with them that it certainly is.
And maybe that force will attempt to persuade me to the other choices at my disposal...a lion, an eagle, a shark, a red tail hawk... And the force may remind me of what a perilous life awaits if I did make that choice complete. The force may show me how in my new life as a rat I may be poisoned, and I may be captured by a scientist to spend the rest of my life being tortured and injected with experimental drugs, and electrocuted or dismembered and left to bask in pain until I’m left to wander again.
By then, after careful consideration, I may look at my new friend sitting quietly in a soft dry corner of her hole and I may see her baby suckling on her breast and her eye may catch a little sunlight that forced its way into her narrow home and I’ll say to the force wholeheartedly that this is my choice.




Sat July 30, 2005


You can email me here: lincoln@palemale.com



Click image above for older photographs