After midnight
The beloved spouse made it home from Milwaukee intact. The cats, once over the initial shock of having him return, lounged about on the bed, purring like old Mercury outboards. They never treat me that way, and I'm the one who unconditionally loves them. Well, pretty much unconditionally. FUBAR animals...
Finished Andrea Levy's novel, Small Island; could not stop reading past my bedtime. Ms. Levy has a light touch, yet it isn't a lightweight book, regarding themes and character development.
Pleasant day, skittered away.
On my way to the liquor store, I saw some kind of feathery struggle going on next to a house. The barred wings looked familiar: A Cooper's Hawk, struggling to extricate itself from a string mesh for sweet peas or some climbing plant. I approached slowly, and had just tugged gently at the side of the string mesh, when the hawk burst explosively from its entanglement. I suppose it wasn't terribly wise to get so close, but it was making that noise that's been used in so many movie soundtracks, that high plaintive cry. Usually you hear it when the wise old Native American chief appears to counsel the stupid young white kid. The hawk flew up to the neighboring house's roof, and appeared to be panting and recovering its bearings. I saluted it, and went on my way.
Finished Andrea Levy's novel, Small Island; could not stop reading past my bedtime. Ms. Levy has a light touch, yet it isn't a lightweight book, regarding themes and character development.
Pleasant day, skittered away.
On my way to the liquor store, I saw some kind of feathery struggle going on next to a house. The barred wings looked familiar: A Cooper's Hawk, struggling to extricate itself from a string mesh for sweet peas or some climbing plant. I approached slowly, and had just tugged gently at the side of the string mesh, when the hawk burst explosively from its entanglement. I suppose it wasn't terribly wise to get so close, but it was making that noise that's been used in so many movie soundtracks, that high plaintive cry. Usually you hear it when the wise old Native American chief appears to counsel the stupid young white kid. The hawk flew up to the neighboring house's roof, and appeared to be panting and recovering its bearings. I saluted it, and went on my way.
posted by isabelita at 10:30 AM
3 Comments:
Hawks are beautiful. The other day, a dove was sitting on my fence and the red tail hawk that eats all the squirrels just dove down and before the poor dove had a chance, grabbed it and flew away. It was sad, but at the same time, Hawks have to eat too.
"Ladyhawke"! And doesn't Rutger Hauer turn into a white wolf or something?...
I had a red tail hawk dive into my neighbor's yard piercing a mouse - hopped back over the fence and ate it up right in my view. That was like right out of National Geographic.
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