about 2 weeks ago i woke up around 6:00 am, not the time i normally wake up and of course i had to have the elixir of life to wake up both my mind and soul, as well as my body. my normal routine started earlier so of course as i began answering the emails that shot over through the night, i happened to glance out my sliders, again not something extraordinary. but i saw some really odd movement i guess that is what caught my eye.
there was a hawk, becoming more common on long island in the past few years.
with something moving fiercely beneath it, tightly clutched in the deeply penetrating talons of this stunning creature was a dove so beyond helpless. being pinned down by the force of the hawks strength.
my immediate reaction was to jump up and outside to startle the hawk, who i believed would release the dove and take off. to my sadness and dismay the hawk gripped tighter on the now almost lifeless dove and took off and flew over the fence and was gone, all that remained was the abundant feathers which were tossed about in the breeze and a small but deeply crimson pool of the doves blood, no more than a quarter sized drop, but just enough to remind me of the reality of nature.
the doves had just become familiar with my garden, a really wonderful private space where they always have fresh water and occasionally i will leave out something for the animals and birds. while many of the birds that visit my garden have been doing so for years and all familiar, the strong and almost throwback to its prehistoric days of being a dinosaur the blue jay, bullying, loud, mean, and beautiful.
the cardinals have been nesting in my garden since i was a boy and i have grown quite used to seeing their bright red plumage all year round, stunning against the deep winter snow.... the endless swooping of the house sparrows and the occasional orieloe, and the really amazing red wing black birds.
since the arrival of the hawk, to what i can only assume my garden has become part of his new feeding territory most have abandoned the garden...
the symbolism of a hawk attacking and killing a dove is not lost on me, but what is missing very intensely are the beautiful sounds of the song birds that once called my garden home.
so a hawk can be a beautiful, and stealthful killer, it can also drain the life from a place, once filled with the variety of noises that only the singers of the air can create.... this is my silent spring, what will summer become?
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