by M. Kathy Raines Thinking they were seagulls, I once paid them little mind. Then a whitish gray “gull”, like a fluttering, suspended marionette, hovered for minutes, legs a-dangle, beating its wings mightily—a remarkable spectacle amidst swirls of pearly clouds. Now I frequently watch these raptors, white-tailed kites, as they perch or hover over fields,…