Hawk in the Flow

The hawk looks as if he is struggling against the wind above us at the beach. He is working very hard but he is also embedded in the wind while it is holding him in place as he looks down to the cliff wall to hunt. After a long time he flies in an arc across the sky.

As I look up to where he is Oona looks down to dig and dig with all her might a pit in the beach that she lies in and pants after a long run in her fashion. I want to let her run free but she cannot. I run with her on her leash up to a log and back and we both breathe in the sea air and slow to a walk back up the shore. The hawk moves over to the eucalyptus grove to join another hawk.

At home the feeder is empty with a small pile of black sunflower seeds on the ground that I pick up and any old seed. I found dead Junco or really Oona did the other morning and with all the damp and rain I worry about moldy seed that might make the birds sick but thus far this has been the only bird I have found this winter into spring. Each day I remain vigilant in my efforts.

 

This bird that died is a Junco and Juncos always seem invincible and are the first to arrive and the last to leave. There has been lately is stiff competition with the large banded pigeons and the four squirrels and Jays.

The large gray squirrel is new to our yard and has long glove like arms ready for the opera and stares into our window. I shoo them off and the doves appear along with some of the smaller birds but then another large pigeon flies onto a fence or another squirrel  as they flutter off. They seem to all be able to eat their fill and leave to investigate other options.

Again this morning I hear the owls further away. It is late in the morning for them but they are boldly conversing about the morning news which considers to be troublesome and discouraging.

At our house Jim and I have bought some of our supplies at the quieter places. It remains a challenge to find supplies but some places are creating at atmosphere that is so welcoming that we just all smile at each other as we shop along but some stores seem so empty of their purpose and I sense the mood of the shopkeeper as rather helpless he or she cannot bring the goods to their customers. Most people are kind enough to not ask and know they have to wait until something else is possible. There are a few naysayers but very rare.

Early in the morning we go over to the store during the senior time and the woodpeckers are out before we make our way to our car to drive off. They are chattering and pecking at the fence stowing some seeds I left on the fence and the jays fly in but get out of their way with those extra long beaks.

In our one little store the young people that work there have built a plexiglass cage around their very dear cashier in just a couple of days and it is a marvel how fast they did this. They also have divided up the large packets of toilet paper into two rolls in a clear plastic bag with a twisty on top and just one to a customer. It is very tender the care they have taken to make things safe and to share.

I listen to one young woman who works there say to a customer that someday this will be history and all we really have left is how we acted and I want to help my community. I feel the pride and heart in her voice and like the birds she is diligent in her endeavors seemingly sharing the space in an active and careful fashion. I watch the docile but feisty little dove sit on her section of seed as the Steller Jay taps his way in closer. I try and take my cue from the birds for the day since the rain has stopped and the sun brightens the sky and our mood.

Oriole Visit on the Vernal Equinox

As the world faces the pandemic and I listen to plans  on the radio for our social distancing an Oriole appears at the Hummingbird’s feeder. They love the sugar water and this time of year one Oriole arrives and visit briefly. His bright yellow body is a stark reminder of spring and vibrant life.We are all trying to survive.

Today another bird visits, much humbler in his small grey coat, it is an Oak Titmouse. Oona our little husky and myself watch the bird fly down to the door mat just outside of the screen and tug out tufts of Oona’s fur that the wind or my broom have brought to rest in the crevices of the rubber mat. He fills his beak with each forage and pull until he has adopted a tiny white beard like Santa Claus as he flies off to pad their nest. I can hear the female shouting orders from the distance as he gathers quickly several bits of fluff for the family days ahead.

Two brown Towhees flutter up and down in a mating ritual at the oaks and four Acorn Woodpeckers line up along the fence for some sunflower seed as one ducks down to grab a seed and the other lifts his head to stand watch and with four of them it is like a circus act timed to calliope music. They keep a sharp eye on the sky that is inhabited by three Red Shouldered Hawks circling around the tallest Redwood tree on our street. The tree has been trimmed so we have more light on our veranda and we can see the hawks lift off and drift down to the top of their perch.

So much is living above us and around us as the community tries to prepare for the worst and considers how to protect their nests from the potential eminent storm of the Corvid-19 virus. My husband and I take walks with Oona and stay close to home or go on short supply runs but each day we marvel at the birds and the sudden arrival of Spotted Towhee, Purple Finch, Townsend Warbler, Oriole, nest building Nuthatch, and Titmouse. We marvel how the hawks have returned after their beloved tree was pruned and shredded for days as pollen covered our cars like snow.

Tonight there is the clattering of frogs in the ravine and suddenly one shrill coyote rings out until a chorus joins in just across the street. For days the Great Horned Owls call to one another at dusk and call through the whole night until dawn.

This year we listened to the owl pair’s owlet screech for food and the encouragement by the parents to learn to hunt. Finally one evening there is a resounding new hoot of his own, and the parents are now off duty as the young owl has come into his own circle of life. We notice during his stay less troublesome rats scaling our fence and can hear this young owl catch his prey.

We do not know what lies ahead and it is a less unsure path we follow unlike the birds but we also share the sky with them and this time and the beauty of what is around us each morning.