Hawk Stories
The other morning, breathing with my mother oak, I arch my spine far backwards with arms stretched up, gazing into the canopy. Maybe twenty feet above me on one of the live oak’s sturdy bare branches, I spot a fuzzy big ball moving – wow, what is that? A big owl? (I am a bit shortsighted, but don’t wear glasses). Carefully walking up the stairs to get a better look, I recognize a bird of prey – a hawk. A couple of blue jays try to scare him away, screeching loudly, in vain. Hawk and me lock eyes for long moments. (What kind is it? Not a red-tailed hawk.) He continues to preen his plumage, fluffing up even more, and when shaking his expanded body, a cloud of small white feathers is released, drifting upwards on the light breeze. We spend maybe ten minutes eyeing each other. I marvel how camouflaged he is up there, not far from me, perched so well. At last, he flies off low, beating his beautifully marked wings fast, with whoosh-whoosh-whoosh melody….
A few hours later, an acquaintance shows me a feather he found when walking his dog earlier, and I ask what kind of hawk. Red shouldered hawk, he answers. They hunt for voles, and gophers as well, he says (yes, I got lots of them!) and they are molting right now. Ahh, that is who visited me this morning: red shouldered hawk!
Three years ago, I spent half an hour with a red tailed hawk visiting me, sitting in almost the same spot, a bit lower though. I sense somebody watching me before I discover him. He saw me coming from my cottage to inspect the garden, perhaps knows I am sleeping there under the trees. Dreamily, astonished, I look, blinking – he stays put to be seen by me. He feels so close by. Otherworldly…. and intuitively, I start some soft T’ai chi shifting, turning my body, and so does hawk turn his gaze and royal beak, continuing to surveil the land, including me. I am in awe; birds of prey don’t like to be watched. After about half hour, suspecting I might be still dreaming, I go down to the house to get my camera. Hawk still there, waiting for me. I cautiously take several stills, finally he calmly glides off into the cork oak, showing me his beautiful tail and wide wings. That is the beginning of a couple of hawk pairs nesting nearby in our neighborhood. As a result the squirrel populations is down, and I am able to harvest more of my plums and apples. The hawk’s visit and our joint meditation will stay with me forever. “I am going nowhere, I am right here” he seems to say, his noble bird presence comforting and protecting me.
Well, this time, the day after slightly smaller red shouldered hawk’s visit, I discover a beautiful feather half hidden beneath the fern… Molting just above, unbeknownst to me he left a gift. (The photo at top is actually of the fine feather he leaves me.) As if he knew that I collect feathers – all over the house and in in my car, they are displayed in bunches, reminding me of the possibility of freedom….
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