I was eating breakfast on Thursday when I heard a loud chirping sound from outside. It was similar to the squawk Terry makes when she’s been startled by something, so I took a look.
Looking out the kitchen window, I saw a wing flapping at ground-level behind the oak tree at the edge of my yard. My neighbors have an outdoor cat and, having found the remains of several birds in my flower beds, my first thought was that another bird had gone to that great nest in the sky.
The flapping continued for a few moments, and then a small animal darted under the fence and into the garden. A moment later, a large bird hopped up and perched on my chain-link fence.
I’m not sure if it was a hawk or a falcon (or really, what the difference is), but it was beautiful. At a distance of less than 50 feet, this is the closest I’ve ever been to a bird of prey outside a zoo, so while the bird studied my garden, searching for its errant breakfast, I took the opportunity to watch the bird.
A half-minute later, a squirrel (either very daring or perhaps not fully sane?) jumped onto the fence and startled, the bird flew away. But for that brief moment, my little corner Sprawlsville seemed a bit more connected with nature.