Monday, November 06, 2023


Rachel, Miriam, and I took Phoebe for a walk this afternoon and came across one of our neighbourhood hawks. I actually have no idea what kind of hawk it is—the kind that likes to sit out in the open and then fly across our path while we're out walking. So some sort of show-off variety of hawk, as it seems. 

It has flown directly across our path more times than we can count.

Not too long ago, I was walking with Benjamin and Phoebe, Alexander and Zoë having run up ahead (the big girls must have been at Grandpa's house). We stopped to watch the hawk when we saw it torpedo out of the sky and into a thicket of twigs up high in an oak tree. 

A squirrel chattered violently and ran mindless circles around the branch under what we determined was its nest while the hawk pecked and clawed its way inside. I wasn't aware that was a thing hawks did—rip open the nests of squirrels and fly off with their young clasped in their talons. Seems like a rather sportless way of hunting, if you ask me. 

But we stood there and watched while the hawk cracked this tiny home open, we listened to the young screaming in terror, until they screamed no more, we shook our heads at the poor momma squirrel running her wild and pointless laps of protest around and around the branch propping up what used to be her home, what was now only a site of carnage.

It was tragic...but interesting. We could hardly tear our eyes away. 

By the time we got home, Zoë and Alexander had seriously begun to wonder what had become of us. Nothing; we were fine. We were just as we were before. Or perhaps witnessing this merciless attack changed us. Or maybe it didn't. It's hard to say. Nothing became of us. We were fine. We were home. And nothing had happened to us. And yet...


Here's a picture of Phoebe from our walk this afternoon. She was sad that we didn't leave her behind to play with the kids, so to cheer her up we helped her collect leaves. She liked that.


This has nothing to do with anything, really, but as I was thinking about a title for this (somewhat random) post (but that's what you get during NaBloPoMo), the phrase "Hawkeye" came to mind.

Apparently Hawkeye is a superhero in the Marvel universe.

Apparently Hawkeye has his own miniseries

Rachel and Miriam liked to watch Hawkeye and while they were watching it they would frequently talk about Hawkeye this and Hawkeye that took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize they were saying "Hawkeye" and not "hot guy."

That is all.


  1. Haha...Hawkeye/hot eye....yeah.

    We have neighborhood hawks too. Or maybe it's just one that I see often. One day I saw it get something near my rose bushes and then I saw feathers as it sat on the pole of my clothesline and ate something. It was facing away from me so I couldn't see what was in its mouth. Another time the hawk was on the edge of my trampoline, and I have seen it on a pole near my ILs' garden, too.

    The other day I was riding my bike and noticed a hawk in a tree that has already lost it's leaves. It's coloring blended perfectly with this particular tree, but it was a bird-shaped lump on a branch so I spotted it.

    Sorry you had to witness nature at its cruelest. I guess hawks help control the rodent population and they consider squirrels as rodents. Still...


  2. well, shoot...I meant "Hot guy" not "eye"... geesh.

    Also, thankfully after a four-day glitch (??) your posts started showing up again. I guess all it took was my mentioning it here for Feedly (or my browser?) to get its act together and start posting them again. Yay!

  3. The hawk and the nest story immediately made me think of Gaza. Mothers like to think they can protect their babies, but sometimes they can't.

    1. That's what I thought of while I was watching.

      I mean, squirrels really are a nuisance around here (as Susanne rightly pointed out) so I wasn't *that* sad about it, did make me think about war and how certain parties have advantages over the other.

  4. Can't be 100% sure, but I think it's a red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus).