Hawk yoga. Every pose you could think of, including one I hadn’t seen before: wings raised in sharp inverted Vs with a tight lean forward as if ready for takeoff, then relaxing again on the fence, a foot slowly rising up and disappearing into the poofy feathers against the chill of the day. This is the life, he sang into the wind.
Half an hour. I considered walking a few steps over and back to pick up the hat project as I watched the hawk show, live!, but nah, why disturb him.
I suddenly wondered if, had I done so, what a small ball of yarn in blues/greens/purples would look like to him, with its long tail constantly jerking around my hands. Caught me a live one!
After he left, anyway.