Saw the Cooper’s hawk.

Most of the smaller birds took off, but an oblivious finch here and another over there stayed, and stayed, and finally did the last-second panic thing with one going this way and the other that, separating from each other, just the thing…

And instead he shrugged after a moment and went the other way.

Because three ravens, at least two of them probably by their behavior only recently fledged, were playing king of the mountain at the tippy top of a tree behind him that couldn’t support their weight at all. They fumbled, tumbled, played, teased–entirely forgetting perhaps that the point was to be stalking his stalking to steal from him. They were like little kids at a playground.

He didn’t fly straight at them but he did risk flying towards and in front of them. Better to let the prey just go while still proclaiming to be the one who’s boss around here.

Hours later, I didn’t see him come back but apparently this male house finch did. (Pardon the birdseed, my outdoor broom doesn’t quite fit in that spot.) He hit the window and tumbled down between two old milk jugs I’d been using to water the potted berries. He wouldn’t have been able to get back out again without flying straight up, so I eased the door open and moved a jug to give him a clear path out of there.

When he had recovered a few minutes later he did exactly that.