Hawks and Shadows

As I was considering what to write about for Killer Hobbies this week, some big birds told me what to do. 

I was looking out the back windows of my home that overlook the San Fernando Valley.  It was a bright and sunny day--sunny enough that my younger Cavalier King Charles Spaniel Mystie’s tail was wagging constantly.  She loves sunny spots and shadows and will watch them for hours.

This time, as I stared out the window, I saw a large bird’s shadow move across the branches and leaves of nearby trees, but I didn’t see the bird.  The same thing happened again only a minute or so later.  Same bird?  Maybe, if it was flying in circles.  It must have been flying over my house, with the sun shining at an angle that cast the shadow visibly, even though I never did see the actual bird.

I found the sight, and illusion, fascinating.  I’ve also been watching some interesting interplay between birds out the same windows this week.  There are two hawks, presumably a male and female, who perch on the tops of nearby power poles and tree branches, not together but sometimes facing one another.  They appear calm and in charge and utterly uncompromising.  This is important because, as they remain there so serenely, crows have been buzz-bombing them.  The crows circle and zoom in, sometimes as a flock, sometimes individually, as if they’re insisting that the hawks leave, that this is their territory.  The hawks ignore them as if they weren’t even there, let alone attacking them.  

I’ve been studying the birds and their actions, wondering how I could incorporate them into a story.  I’m not writing about birds, at least not currently, but I could certainly analogize their personalities and interactions into differences in humans.

The hawks are like people who know who they are and what they want.  Who have goals (like finding the right rodent to sweep down on and eat?) and will let nothing stand in their way to achieving them. 

The crows are... say, I just realized they’re like the media.   Paparazzi!  They’ll fly and flutter to divert attention, to get a story by creating their own.  By attacking, at least figuratively when it comes to humans, those who are secure in themselves and who don’t want to be bothered.

Then there was the determined and diligent hummingbird I also saw yesterday taking its nectar from some flowers on a bush outside a local post office today.  Hovering and intriguing, a hard worker but lovely and fun to watch.

Do you ever analogize the actions of other animals to those of humans?  Heck, I do it all the time with my dogs... and now I’m doing it with birds, too!

All Natural

Saw a piece of nature in action the other morning. It started when we heard crows cawing frantically outside our window. It kept getting louder and we went for a look and saw a flock of them in a nearby tree – and a large owl sitting on top of a telephone pole. Now and again a crow would launch itself at the owl, who would duck but stubbornly stick to his post. The cawing was drawing more crows and soon the tree was thick with them, and the dives became more frequent. Eventually the owl flew off, the crows in hot pursuit.

I understand this sort of thing happens because both owls and crows have a taste for bird eggs and the tender, newly-hatched young, and crows want a monopoly.

Ah, yes, sweet, gentle nature, if only we wicked humans would give up our corrupt notions of civilization and live more like the natural world . . .

One of the new services our co-op is offering is a half hour of exercise once a week – we’re supposed to do the exercises on our own the other days – and I went down yesterday to have a taste of them. They are pretty gentle, stretching one of those Therabands, a long band of elastic, doing leg lifts while sitting in a chair, and I was shocked to find them not as ridiculously easy as I thought they’d be. All those hours of sitting at my desk writing have at last caught up with me. I go three mornings a week to the Courage Center, which has an Olympic-size pool where I do water aerobics, but obviously I need these new exercises, too. Turning into a senior citizen stinks, and I’d turn down the honor except I like the alternative even less.

On March 4 I’m flying down to Ft. Myers, Florida, to stay for nine days with my mother while my sister Dolores takes a little vacation. Mom is getting frail – she’s 90 – but her mind is clear. She does crossword puzzles and jumbles in ink! But she’s confined to a wheelchair and can no long live alone. She lived with my sister Therese in Wisconsin for a few years, and is now with Dolores. She’s pretty good company, but her medical problems are mounting and her next stop is likely to be a nursing home. We are all dreading that, not least her. I used to be repulsed at a prayer in my Catholic missal for a "happy death," but no longer. I wish I could find that old missal.