WHEN YOU CURSE YOURSELF for not having your camera with you.
‘Tother day, I stepped into the parking lot at the Patch Factory and stopped.
On the other side of the lot, in the pear trees that border the street, was a hawk. Or a falcon. I couldn’t tell what he was. And we get red tails, Cooper’s hawks, and peregrines — all roughly the same size to my inexpert eye. And he was backlit and moving.
Reminded me of that line from Joni Mitchell’s “Coyote” …and a hawk was playin’ with him…. This fellow was playing. He jumped off the branch he was perched on and took a gyre around the open space inside the levee, between the buildings. I’m sure he saw me standing there and dismissed me as a threat. As I walked out to my car, he circled overhead, diving once to strafe the lawn next door, then up over the top of the levee and away into the sky.
Sorry. No pictures.