BEWARE, THIS IS FOR THE BIRDS!

JUVENILE RED SHOULDERED HAWK

Free as a bird. Ha!  Read on.
Beware, this is a "coming of age" story.  No, not THAT kind of coming of age.  Is that all you think of?  Sheeesh! 
I was 14 years old.  I was just starting high school and I was in a boarding school, 150 miles away from home.  I was sure that I was going to be a Roman Catholic priest but I didn't know what I was going to have to do to get there.  The one thing I knew for sure, It was going to get cold [New Hampshire, ya know]; baseball season would then be late.  I wondered about that a lot.  I never gave a thought to the possibility of having to abandon my diamond ambitions to get the goaled  I was sure I wanted. [got it?]  Little did I know that there were many things that I would have to learn along the way to adult maturity.  Some, I refused outright, and never looked back to check to see how I would have been with them.  Some seemed to me to be so far out there that I never thought there would ever be a fit between them and me.  One was sailing.  Another one was water skiing.  But the farthest out there was "bird watching."  Bird watching!  Time out.  You're kidding, of course.  You're not?  HhMmm...
I'll have to think about it.  I thought about it all during my first year.  As I was thinking about it, new realities kept bombarding me.  First, of course, the robins disappeared as it got colder.  Then all of a sudden other, somewhat more colorful birds than robins, began to appear.  I didn't say anything but I would hear things like "The Pine Grosbeaks are coming.  I saw one today."  I asked myself what language these schoolmates of mine were talking.  As the avian population changed and turned over, the "bird watchers" stayed aware of the changes and showed emotion when the seasons changed and the feathered kingdom kept changing scenery along with the weather/climate.  I had to admit that I was getting interested.  The clincher was when a very respected friend of mine from the same elementary school that I attended told me that bird watching was a very noble pursuit.  He explained to me that to watch birds required the talent to know a lot about the biosphere.  It required knowing the types of vegetation that attracted certain birds and other animals as well.  He pointed out to me that in order to appreciate what inhabited the air also depended in the ground.  He pointed out that the trees and the ground were not just alighting points for birds, but sources of shelter and food.  He pointed out to me that the migration of birds is a mystery that could occupy and interest me for a large part of my life.  Finally, he pointed out that this was a mystery of creation that holds lessons for us humans that lead us to develop a deeper appreciation for God Himself.
To make the story shorter, the following year when I reported to school, I had found a way to acquire a pair of binoculars rather than a new baseball glove.
Ever since then, birds have been able to fascinate me.  It has been years since I have devoted myself to serious bird watching.  Every now and then, however, something happens that captures my attention and doesn't let go.  Like when the Snowy Egret drops in for a couple days every year.
This what this rather spectacular bird looks like.  It appears in the little area that occupies the front of our residence.  It is a small pond, full of small fish and surrounded by palms and pines.  It is inhabited by a small flock of mallards and a pair of brown ducks.  Every now and then a kingfisher makes himself at home and picks up breakfast just before sun-up.  Lately, a wonderful event happened.  A large bird of prey began to make himself at home in the area surrounding the pond.  He has discovered that the edges of the pond are drilled full of holes that serve as home for small rodents and frogs.  It is a juvenile Red Shouldered Hawk.  [See above]  A very imposing presence in the area.  I might add that it is also a very welcome presence.  The murder of crows that hung out here has decided that it would be better for it to move on and find a less threatening environment.  So, we are now quiet.  I for one hope that Mr. Bird of Prey makes this his dinner table for a while.
To get back to the beginning.  When we look up in the air, our soul soars too and we wish for the freedom that we seem to see there.  Bird watching has taught me that there is no more freedom there than we earth-bound creatures experience here.  They, in fact have less.  They are bound by the endless search for sustenance.  I watched my friend the hawk this morning through my binoculars for about 45 minutes.  When I started, he was 90% through a small meal.  When he finished, he changed position and went for a vantage point that gave a good angle between him, the area he wanted to survey and the position of the sun.  In those 45 minutes he made three attempts to grab something to supplement his protein intake from earlier.  Three.  All three were misses.  I thought that he had succeeded on the first one because I saw some frantic wing flapping while he was down below my level of complete vision.  He came up empty.  The prey, whatever it was, could have slipped into water too deep for hawkish pursuit.  My first reaction was, "poor bastard."  I saw him try twice more and saw clean misses each time.  It was then that I saw that freedom is not a part of a bird's life.  Constant striving for survival is their lot.  I love birds.  I am grateful that I listened to the friends who taught me the value of paying attention to the birds.  From those who hunt and eat on the wing [swallows], include those who swim and fish and those who know how to break open the shells of mussels, to those who stalk and fight on the ground.  From those who fly thousands of miles to escape the inclement seasons to those who stay put all year long.  I am glad that I did not pursue the dictates of my ignorance and imitate those flightless ones who bury their head in the sand to escape reality.  Now, let me go check to see if Mr. Hawk has found his dinner.