Pretty Predator

It's time I was motivated to post something for October. When I saw a large bird land in the tree outside my window this morning it became first a Facebook share and now a blog post.

For the past ten days I have been noticing clusters of small birds darting about in the trees and bushes. It's like they are playing a game, flitting so quickly I haven't been able to tell what they are - possibly Goldfinches, as that is about their size.

When I saw this Cooper's Hawk* land and secrete itself among the leaves, I knew I hadn't been the only one noticing those small birds - they are among the hawk's favorite meals. I can admire the hawk's beauty and stature while at the same time eschew its proclivities.

         Hawk

                      (By Stephan Dunn)

What a needy desperate thing

to claim what's wild for oneself,

yet the hawk circling above the pines

looks like the same one I thought

might become mine after it crashed

into the large window and lay

one wing spread, the other loosely

tucked, then no, not dead, got up

dazed. And in minutes it was gone.

Now once again

this is its sky, this its woods.

The tasty small birds it loves

have seen their God and know

the suddenness of such love

as we know lightning or flash flood.

If hawks can learn, this hawk learned

what's clear can be hard

down where the humans live,

and that the hunting isn't good

where the air is such a lie.

It glides above the pines and I

turn back into the room, the hawk book

open on the cluttered table

to Cooper's Hawk

and the unwritten caption:

that to be wild

means nothing you do or have done

needs to be explained.

*Chicken hawk is a common name for the Cooper's Hawk and the one my parents used for this medium-sized hawk.