A lot going on in the world. Irrigation water has started, hay feeding lightened up, branding this month, economy tightening its belt and a haughty brown hawk is in the garage.
I saw him run in there when getting the car to go to town. He caused quite a commotion near twilight. Made two quail fly into the large corner window of our living room. Heard the first thud while sitting down to supper. The loud impact of a bird flying into a window startled us enough to find where the sound came from. Discovered a round, light imprint with quail tuft feathers attached on our south picture window. Thinking the bird was confused by the window's sheen we close the blinds and headed back to dinner.
Before we were able to sit down a second loud thud comes from the living room. Another bird flying into the window? The blinds had been pulled, lights off. We return to look out the window and see a quail lying on the grass; its gray feathers only slightly ruffled by the night breeze no movement, legs up, still.
Heading back to the kitchen deciding what to do about the birds a third thud stops us. We turn to the front door and go outside to see what is causing this suicidal barrage of birds. Outside there is a hawk on its back under the picture window. He must have been chasing the quail and flown into his own trap. The hawk's legs are moving as the bird, on its back, has its head at an awkward angle underneath itself. If the bird had been human its neck would surly be broken.
Not wanting the bird to suffer my husband, Kent, reaches down, lifts the bird by its legs to release its trapped head when it starts to strongly protest, flapping, pecking madly. Kent drops the bird whose commotion attracts the ranch dog that defends this place. The quail he showed no interest in but this flapping, hopping hawk he is determined to subdue. We call the dog off, pull on him, but his over 100 pounds of determination cannot be held back. He is going to get this winged menace. I turn my back. Kent releases the dog so as not to get bit, pecked or scratched by either animal. The natural order of things is going to determine this outcome.
The hawk must be a formidable fighter because he is walking around the yard in the morning. Flying short hops at a time no more than two or three feet in the air, a wing injury, I will not interfere with. The dog seems to have decided to leave the bird alone too. Maybe in the garage it will do something about the mice.
The dog lets birds eat out of his dish once in a while after he finishes eating. Maybe the hawk will learn to do the same until he heals enough to leave the yard. With what aggressive high flyers have done to our economy one doesn't mind seeing some eat out of the dog's dish. Just don't appreciate them squawking about it while others scratch around for seed to survive.
Marie Johnson is a Fredericksburg, Calif., resident and is married to Kent Neddenriep. They have two sons, Kyle, and Bradley. Her column, 'Fence Lines,' appears once a month.
