The Yellow Braid by Karen Coccioli Read Free Book Online Page B

“She’s so
huge! Awesome, right?”
    “Awesome,” Caro mimicked. “I never saw one
this close up before.”
    “Know what the coolest thing about them
is?”
    “What?”
    “They can make the toes on their talons go
backward or forward depending on the prey they’re trying to catch.
Like this.” She demonstrated with her fingers.
    “I think this one is scary-looking with its
beady eyes. And its beak looks like it could tear into
anything.”
    “That’s because they’re related to the
hawk…very protective of their nests. Watch how it tracks my every
move.” Livia made a slow rotation around the schooner.
    “You sound quite the expert.”
    “Uncle Tommy taught me. He’s the one that
got me interested in this stuff.”
    Caro followed Livia’s lead around the nest.
The gawking of the predator chilled Caro. She felt as if it
intuited her own ravenous attraction toward Livia. Afraid, Caro
withdrew.
    Livia tugged at Caro’s arm.
    The girl’s touch startled Caro and she was
rocketed back in time to when her daughter used to get her
attention in the same way. Sometimes when Caro didn’t want to be
bothered she’d yank her hand out of Abby’s reach. With Livia, she
welcomed the girl’s touch and so she relaxed her hand. “What?”
    “We have to move away so she’ll feel safe
enough to leave her nest. Then we can watch her take flight.”
    “All right.” Caro followed Livia to the
road, where they waited behind the massive trunk of an old
sycamore.
    Within a minute the osprey gave the area one
last inspection and then pushed off her perch. Her long body arched
and executed a deep dive. As it neared water level it pushed upward
and settled into a slow, steady wingbeat.
    Livia sensed Caro’s reaction and turned to
her. “I told you it would be awesome.”
    “It definitely was,” Caro said.
    The girl’s broad smile was a wreath around
her face. After the shared moment with the osprey, she loosened up.
By the time they got to Coecles Harbor Livia claimed hunger and
thirst with unguarded exuberance.
    “You seem to get along really well with your
uncle,” Caro said over a platter of fried clams and chips.
    “Yeah, he’s great. Aunt Nina, too, when she
doesn’t have her camera. Last spring they took me to Maine for a
birding festival. Was great fun!”
    “I don’t know about birds. Is there a
special species that you like better than most?”
    “Sea birds. The ospreys are cool because
they’re predators and supposedly big, tough guys, but all they hunt
is fish.”
    “Fish aren’t sacred?” Caro asked only half
seriously.
    “Nah, just boring.” Livia munched on french
fries and then almost as an afterthought she added, “Plus you can
spot the osprey without using binoculars.”
    “I’d think you’d want to see them up close,”
Caro commented.
    Livia shook her head, and then swung her leg
around over the bench and chucked her half-eaten food in the trash
barrel. She sat down again, but this time with her back to the
picnic table, and made noises through her straw in the soda.
    Livia’s body language made Caro wonder if
the girl felt the camera lens to be as invasive as being
objectified by the binoculars? Caro pressed the issue. “But you
like using your uncle’s telescope and that zooms objects in.”
    Livia didn’t answer.
    Caro attempted a matter-of-fact tone. “In
poetry, details make the poems work. Elizabeth Bishop was famous
for her eye for detail. She believed it was a poet’s task to
examine things at close range. In one of her poems, she wrote, ‘…
from the window I see an immense city, carefully revealed, made
delicate by overworkmanship, detail upon detail, cornice upon
façade.’”
    Livia appeared unresponsive, but Caro knew
differently by the discernible tilt of her ward’s profile in her
direction. “She’s talking about love. We know that from the title.
Love enabled the lover to make even a big city delicate because of
the details. If you’re going to be a