(Knit knit knit.)
I was thinking it was about that time of the evening, and looked up to see him fly in and land on the back of the chair. Someday I’ll get a good picture! He was facing me straight on, as he’s been doing of late.
There was a squirrel now cowering under that chair.
The Cooper’s and I looked at each other steadily: you are here.
Yes.
You are here.
Yes.
A long minute’s rest from all cares. He turned his head once, finally, like a small child being shy around a smiling grown-up.
Slowly, cautiously, a pointed black nose came up at the front of the chair and the squirrel just started to reach a paw, maybe two, I only saw one, as if thinking about hoisting himself up to see–when, clearly, he saw, and scampered back under.
Wings and tail seemed to spread wide in such slow motion, and yet the hawk was gone at the speed of a blink.