"Carol Emshwiller - On Display Among the Lesser" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emshwiller Carol)

On Display Among the Lesser
by Carol Emshwiller

Those who look to the clouds тАж those who swear by the moon тАж those who say they understand the
stars тАж That's not us. We're here, in the land of the far, far, far тАж east of some and west of others. It's
we who know the world, from north to south to middle. We see it all spread out. We live above, and
soar. All others are our meals. Not a one that isn't. We, cliff dwellers, baskers in the sun, dancers,
keepers of the seasons and of time and of all the directions.

How ride the sky grid? How ride the thermals? How be the one on the top of every pinnacle? Be us. It's
the only way.

We're known for our beauty, and I, the largest and most beautiful even of my own kind. Always a sharp
intake of breath when I spread my wings. Who could help it? My red, my black and white, my
iridescence тАж.

What is there to fear for creatures such as we? Masters of the air? And I, the largest.

What's to fearтАФthat is, except the mobbers? Only the mob of the small and irrelevant ever forces us out
of the sky, all the way down to where we have no choice but to hop and limp. Flutter. They're experts at
blows to the head but they're too small to kill.



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I had left the perches of our precipice. But first I'd hopped about the dance platform for no reason than
for joy. I had flapped and strutted. (I had no mate yet though I had my choice of all of them. Who would
have what it takes to be my consort? So far there was not a one equal to me.)

Then I'd soared away, cried out good-bye тАж to no one тАж to everyone.

My first meal that morning was poisonous snake.

After that I thought to get myself a lookout from among the lesser before she could call the alarm, but she
was quick. I raised a whirlwind of dust for nothing.

Then I thought eggsтАФlittle speckled brown ones.



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It's a long time since I felt fear. I remember it from when I was a chick. I pushed my brother out of the
nest тАж it had to be. Later, I fell out of the nest myself and was almost eaten by a fox. By then I was
half-fledged and, with talons and frantic fluttering, I managed to climb back to the aerie. My parents
killed the fox and brought me the pieces. The last time I was afraid was when my parents forced me from
the nest. I was sure I'd end up at the bottom of the cliff as I had before. But since then I've felt nothing