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To save energy, they look for updrafts and thermals to help them along - just what they find in the Appalachian Mountains to the north, and over some of the fields in the Philly suburbs.Īt Cape May Point - often referred to as the raptor capital of North America - birds that have followed the coast south funnel at the point before crossing Delaware Bay. What's happening is that the birds have finished nesting and are heading south for the winter, often traveling thousands of miles. Cape May Point and Hawk Mountain, north of Reading, sometimes have hundreds. The two suburban hawk watches attract several dozen participants on any given day. The barest amateurs are welcomed, sometimes even given loaner binoculars, and hawk-watchers are typically generous sorts who love sharing their expertise.
![with rapt attention with rapt attention](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a6/11/61/a61161314caac7a728efec664417847c.jpg)
Although the experienced birders are the ones making the official counts - and turning the numbers in to databases that scientists analyze to determine population trends - it's not an exclusive event. Some have dubbed it nature's greatest air show, and you can join in. On a good day, 2,000 or more raptors from as far north as Greenland might pass overhead. The magnificent fall migration of raptors has begun, and it's going to get better by the day until the action slows in mid-November.įrom Cape May to the Appalachians, from Fort Washington State Park to Rose Tree Park in Media, avid hawk-watchers are out enjoying the parade, identifying and logging the hawks, harriers, peregrines, vultures, eagles, ospreys, and more that soar overhead, and sometimes swoop in for an even better show. Soon, the watchers know, they just know, it's going to be something good. Soon, the man below begins to hum along with her.It starts as a distant speck against the sky. She turns her attention to her quarry across the gap and hums her song softly to mask herself. She melts awkwardly back into the skull as best she can, though a tangle of spindly elbows, licorice-black, still juts from its sockets. The man stops, then slowly holsters his weapon. She has only a moment: She pushes her face down through the ropes, opens her mouth, and sings. His Light flares as he draws his weapon with impossible speed. The man standing below the netting senses her appearance. Savathûn squeezes through the calcified channels of ascendant energy and manifests within the dangling Ahamkara skull. Savathûn, physical form a twisting instar, emerges from the shadows and crawls over the shattered pieces of the Ghost. He feels his heart beating in his chest and is so enraptured by the sensation that he forgets to be frightened. The High Celebrant howls in the catacombs, and he hears his sister's voice buried in its roar. His mouth hangs in a half-smile before he takes a long drink, slaking a bone-deep thirst. He passes the bottle, and Osiris, hands numb, puzzles at it. Osiris sits by the campfire as Crow and the Guardian share a drink. When Saint places a hand on his forearm, Osiris holds impossibly still just to see what the other man will do. When a Ghost appears to revive the defeated warrior, Osiris leans forward in careful study. Osiris watches the Crucible match unfold. He pauses to compose himself and then walks on, trailing careless spatters of black fluid. Beneath his robes, something erupts in a frenzy of motion.
![with rapt attention with rapt attention](https://t1.thpservices.com/previewimage/gallil/05e321ddbd3f5b8aa76aa4a0888741c2/aqt-am170720_038673.jpg)
Osiris stumbles as he walks through the Last City. The risks taken and the boundaries pushed to keep herself entertained and her Worm fed. In her crystalline prison, she reflects on all her surreptitious winks and little nods. There's a saying among con artists: "Half the fun is showing the mark which cup hid the ball before you take their money."