A great predator. No, not 45, something more natural, a Cooper’s Hawk, as far as I know. They’ve been around for years, sometimes as many as a family of four. [One killed at our nearby park in the Northside.] Below are sitings, none of them great.
The first was across the street, where Hawk took its time shredding and digesting a meal. [We have fewer ardillas than before.] She was there half an hour, time enough to bother lots of neighbors to come out. I can’t stand not sharing the thrill of a fellow creature who’s not afraid to allow us to watch.
The second was another diner, right next door. My Nietos got to see this one shred a paloma. They stared as much as I did.
The last foto was almost a great shot. Hawk watched a smaller bird on the next door lawn for like twenty minutes, both of them barely moving all that time. Somehow, dinner escaped and I got one of the few full-wings shots ever.
BUT, the greatest foto never happened. Here in our backyard patio, I sat one morning writing and right above and in front of me, only six feet away, Hawk landed, looked at me, stared around, saying nothing, until our dog Menqui who’d also been watching had to bark her away. She left me stunned, not so much regretting I had no chance to take a pic, as much as wishing she’d stayed longer and told me her story.
Out of these experiences, I decided that my protagonist Maritza must have a hawk as her nagual that played a decisive role in helping her mission. Not a Cooper’s hawk, but the eagle that was originally on the old Mexican flag. Hope you like reading about Maritza as much as I like the musing Hawk.