My daughters and I went to Coupa Cafe for their hot chocolate that is melted-dark-chocolate-and-a-little-milk. They don’t serve dairy-free, but going there is so much a part of any coming home for Sam; we went, we chatted over the mega-noise levels, we bought take-out cups for the menfolk.
I had described over the last few days how much I love having my own personal Cooper’s hawk around but I don’t think Sam had ever seen one, certainly not ours nor up close.
On our way home, on the telephone wires right next to the main road, in a neighborhood where I’ve seen one before, I looked up as Michelle drove and right there was, you guessed it, a Cooper’s hawk, chest glowing in the clear sun amidst what has mostly been clouds and rain of late, its feathers and colors highlighted and Right There, absolutely glorious. I exclaimed and Sam turned quickly to catch a glimpse too as the car went by.
Given the several miles from home, it might not have been our Cooper’s, but it may well have fledged from the nest in the tall tree that reaches over our yard and I tell you, it had the most exquisite sense of timing.