Lord of the air

There's a red-tailed hawk that hangs out along a certain part of Winchester Road. The first time I saw him, I thought he was an overweight crow until I got closer and saw the thick body and curved beak. He was eating some unfortunate rabbit, brilliant red meat dangling from his beak.

I saw him again during an ice storm. He was surveying a field from atop a telephone line, ignoring the ice pelleting him. The last time I saw him, in better weather, he was on the telephone line again, getting ready to launch himself into the air.

There's something beautiful about the flight of a hawk.