Walking the dogs this morning and a hawk breezed over my head. Of course there was no possible way I was going to catch a picture of it in flight. Between juggling two dogs’ leashes and the two dogs tugging in different directions, I can barely manage a still picture. But it was kind enough to sit for a moment on a roof — just long enough for me to snap this picture — before zooming away again. You probably can’t even really see it — it’s the speck on the top of the roof.
This afternoon, though, I was on my home from the grocery store when I saw it again.* I took a quick picture, thinking it would move, then started walking toward it. Took another, and another, and another, and… you get the idea. This is the very last. I stood under its light-pole and it twisted its head what seemed like a full 180 degrees to stare down at me, then decided that I meant nothing and went back to relaxing.
Hawks in flight are elegant, but this one, sitting still, looks plump and satisfied, like a country squire character in a Jane Austen novel.
*I say “it” as if there’s only one — I’d like to believe that it’s Joan the Hawk, the bird that R sees when he’s at school, just because I like the name they’ve given that hawk so much, but R says no, too small. Still, he thinks the neighborhood probably only has one hawk. It needs a name!
Judy, Judy, Judy said:
A bird lover taught me that the elegance in flight you refer to always means bird of prey. You can see the difference if you observe the flight of turkey buzzards. They sway and get carried around on the wind.
Nice hawk pics.
It’s true. There are so many beautiful birds here — this morning I tried to catch a picture of ibises in flight — but that elegance is something only a few of them have. Ibises are actually ungainly when they start flying and only start looking graceful when they can start coasting.