The Hawk

The Hawk
I saw him one day, that proud, arrogant creature. Everything about this eagle said how important he was. He would alight on branches and instead of looking about with curiosity as most newcomers would, he seemed to be saying, 'This is my place, I belong here.' When he hunted, it took only a swift strike, on the ground, in the air, sweeping a fish from the water. This predator knew what he was doing. If you didn't look closely I suppose he would have seemed like any other bird, but this one was special, his immaculate feathers spilled in a white crown around his head and neck, brown and splashy black covered his back and his tail again, ended in pure white. Not ivory or eccru, not even eggshell, but white. That hooked bill spent long minutes cleaning feathers and keeping his fearsome claws tidy.

It was winter when I went looking for him again. There he was, in the north end of the forest. He was quiet today and I wondered why. Then I saw it, a hawk. Much smaller than the eagle, it was a reddish brown with streaks near its throat.'Young and silly' I thought to myself. I had no idea. The eagle waited patiently and the hawk made its first mistake. It dove straight from its higher perch down at the eagle. Obviously he seemed to think he owned the territory. The eagle took to the air as the young hawk swept by him. The hawk then turned back to land in a nearby tree. He was clearly feeling superior, having made the eagle move. I watched the hawk spread its short, rounded wings, fluffing its feathers. The hawk never noticed the eagle high above it. I winced, knowing what was coming next. The eagle landed feet first on top of the smaller juvenile hawk and knocked him off the branch before sweeping up again into the sky. This eagle was no fool.

I blinked in amazement that no sound came from either one of them, hawk or eagle. Clearly, the eagle didn't need to scream to tell the hawk what to go do with itself. The hawk, having landed on the ground and was now quite terrified, hopped about, getting its bearings and scanning the sky. Then the hawk made its next mistake of taking to the air again. Once again the eagle flew down and snatched at the hawk with unerring ability. I wondered how much the eagle knew about other birds in the area, and if it recognized that this was no threat, just a stupid kid. It didn't strike to maim, or to kill, merely to frighten the wits out of, the hawk. It succeeded. I chuckled as I saw the young juvenile beat a hasty retreat around tall treetops, diving in swift, erratic movements to escape the attentions of the larger eagle. The eagle finally settled back into the branch of the tree it had been in and I could see its beak opening and closing, as if laughing to itself. Hopefully the hawk had enjoyed a valuable lesson. I know I had.