Not an Urban Red-tail

Driving on Highway 59, I always look for him, particularly towards evening when he tends to sit on the lines to watch for rodents. And today there he was, foot up, relaxed, scoping the edge of the prairie created by the Tall Grass Restoration Project. I decide to try him again.

You see I'm okay 100 yards away. The truck is okay 100 yards away--but the photography equipment is definitely not okay.

8:28PM There he is. I do a quick turn around and then trundle down the opposite side of the road on the verge. He doesn't care. He's still watching the prairie edge. I get out of the truck, still okay, I poke the camera rode the truck's cap, he's still ignoring me. Unfortunately from this angle there's a big wire in front of him. I edge a bit further out, put my eye to the camera--no hawk. He's leisurely flapping off towards the oaks and disappears into the trees.

8:30PM See him? There he is--five acres away in an old oak.

8:31PM Preening. Completely relaxed, just far, far, away.

Now he's watching the edge of the soybean field for dinner.

He watches a Crow cruise by, looks down, goes into a swoop, and crashes through the soybeans. Then he's up with something in his talons and truly disappears into the trees this time. A country hawk who protects his privacy and doesn't choose to include us as part of it. I miss that inclusion here, spoiled by hawks that see us as no more than part of their usual landscape.

Time to go anyway, the clouds have gone orange.

And the sun over the adjacent trees has gone purple over the prairie. The cars speed by going 70MPH, without a pause. too used to having all this to even notice it.

Donegal Browne

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