On Sunday I told the story of a pair of red-tail hawks that I saw just after I got home with groceries. The first was the literal embodiment of “death from above,” while the second perched on the telephone pole across the street and gave me time to take some pictures.
Thank you for staying there while I grabbed the camera from inside the house!
What are you looking at? Okay, I know that I outweigh this dude (dudette? I don’t know) by about a factor of 100 or so, but I would still give him at least even odds if he really, REALLY decided to take his chances with me.
Now looking for lunch, having apparently decided that I’m not it. Probably too tough and stringy to eat.
Anything downhill? That’s where his mate went with her mourning dove entrée.
What’s that, a lizard? Or maybe one of the bunnies in the bushes?
After taking pictures for over five minutes and praying that he wouldn’t take off, I was now wanting to catch some photos of him flying off (and I needed to rescue those groceries from the car…). Finally he starts to stretch.
And he’s off! Look at those claws! Okay, so forget my 50/50 comment, the betting’s now 60/40 on the hawk.
You can see why their called “red-tailed” hawks! Out over the canyon and gone…
Time to go grab the groceries out of the car.