What a little bird told me.

We went for an early morning walk. It's always nice to get out of the house, but we do it for exercise and the exercise, of course, is mostly for me. I have a very sedentary job and when I'm kind of "in the zone" of a story, I can easily fail to step outside my door for days at a time. Bill tries to see that doesn't happen.

We went down the hill to the track at the Olmos Basin soccer fields. The track and fields are constructed on land that is in the flood plain. I don't know if that's the exact terminology "in the flood plain". It sounds like I'm saying "this land could flood" but in fact this land is supposed to flood. This natural basin was re-engineered in the 1920s to collect water behind a dam to keep downtown San Antonio free of the terrible, tragic flooding that had historically plagued it.

So, the basin can't be used for houses or schools or anything that might wash away. The city keeps it as a green zone with nature trails and fields for baseball and soccer and a partially shaded track that encircles about 50 acres of open land and abuts at least that many more acres of heavily wooded wildlife area, home to coyotes and other critters not usually a part of an urban landscape.

The highlight of the morning's jaunt was that we saw Alonzo, the male partner in the pair of Mexican Eagles that rule the area. Mexican Eagles don't just exist on the Mexican flag. They are real birds, otherwise known as crested caracara. The photo here is by wildlife photographer Claude Desrochers. Check out his work at www.Desrochresphoto.com As you can see it actually looks very much like the American Bald Eagle, except the male looks like he's wearing a hat. A sombrero, some say, but to me it looks more like a beret. Or when he's very alert and the feathers stand on end, it resembles something that Davy Crockett might have worn.

Like the American Bald Eagle they are huge birds, majestic and graceful. They soar to great heights over the field. And when they spot a creature moving in the grass, they swoop down at high speed to whisk the hapless prey from the safety of the ground to the nest of sticks in the tall tall trees.

The absolute beauty of this hunting, this picking off of the smaller and weaker, it is fascinating, almost hypnotic to watch. It's a part of nature. And nature is part of all of us. For the good and bad.

We all experience the eagles of this world and sometimes fall prey to them.

As I watched I began thinking about my new story, out in July, called THE BIKINI CAR WASH. Now, I'm sure you can't imagine how, with such a title, this eagle would bring that to mind. But one of the themes of the story is how a rich and powerful, connected community leader, for reasons the heroine can never know or understand, decides to prey upon her struggling summer business. This theme is not new to me, nor is it new to American literature. Some of our greatest writers, from Hawthorne through Steinbeck and beyond have pitted the little guy against the landlord, the robber baron, the corrupt official. And in film Frank Capra created his legacy on his everyman-Jimmy Stewart characters valiantly sparing against the giants of injustice.

As a people, Americans love this theme. It speaks to us in a way that's both personal and rooted in our history. Whether your family came to this country when they ran out of potatoes, or escaped the pogroms, whether they were chained into the hull of ships, sailed in on the Mayflower or, as Cherokee-American humorist Will Rogers used to say, "we met them at the boat when they landed", the ideals of our country can be summed up as: we believe everyone should get a fair shake. For that reason, we are always going to root for the underdog.

And perhaps, for that reason, in our poems, our novels, our movies, the little guy usually comes out on top.

"Ah..." I thought with a sigh. "If only real life were more like books. If only nature were a little more nurturing."

Just then, ahead of us near the edge of the trail, the Mexican eagle landed on the grass between a pair of big trees. We heard what was happening before we could see it. A pair of mockingbirds, who undoubtedly had a nest to protect in one of those trees, were frantically charging, pecking, harassing the eagle. Mockingbirds are not tiny, though most of their size is in their extra long tail feathers. Compared to the eagle then were very outclassed. Kind of like a bar fight between an NFL tackle and a pudgy 3 year-old.

But the mockingbirds refused to be intimidated. Again and again and again they charged the eagle. One would go at him directly while the other fluttered up to poke him sharply on the top of the head. The eagle tried to go after them with his talons, the mockingbirds were too quick. He tried swatting them away with the power of his wing-span, they were knocked down but they came right back.

Finally, the eagle took to the air, with mockingbirds in pursuit. With his size and strength, he quickly left the smaller flyers behind.

But he didn't come back.

Sometimes, even in nature, the little guy wins. I like that.