hawk
February 19, 2005
When I see feathers drifting down from the oak trees, I know a hawk is dining. This is not an unusual thing in the daily happenings around here. Today, I went out back to try to get a picture, despite the rain. But the oak trees are overgrown, and I know the hawk is thinking I am being rude again. He spots me (no surprise there), and as I move around, trying to see past the leaves, the squirrels’ nests, and the rain, he makes an annoyed hawk sound. The rain gets more persistent, so I give up. But last year, I managed to get one hawk, though not as sharply as I would have liked. Coming up tomorrow. For now, I am going back to Dave Eggers’ How We are Hungry.
