Angst and Barbeque Sauce
It’s that time of the year again. Baby hawks abound.
This one, obviously has just recently fledged and is figuring out where to get a real meal in NYC. Makes you wonder what mom was bringing back to the nest. Read the whole thing here. (Nice try buddy.)
My mom is now living in my house in Banning and she called me the other night, the distinct sound of a hungry young red-tailed hawks in the background, “I think the hawks are fledging,” she said.
“Prepare yourself,” I said. “It’s going to get worse. Wait until their parents cut them off.” It’s a falconer’s nightmare, really. Three hawks in three points surrounding the house, screaming their fool heads off at dawn. It gives me nightmares about imprints every year. And yet, I’m a little sad that after five years, I’m missing out on the very predictable and yet amazing cycle of redtail beginnings. And I’m willing to bet the hawks are missing me as well, or rather, my flock of pigeons.
Hello. I’m so glad I found your blog. I was searching in Twitter for Brittanys and found your tweet. I have a Brittany, Frannie who is the sweetest dog I’ve ever had. I have also dreamt of becoming a Falconer…and was so pleased to see both mentioned in your tweet.