Lil' Treybooshkas,
I think I've realized I'm not going to sneak up on any hawks anytime soon. No matter how quietly I think I'm approaching (in a car, radio off, windows down), they sense it and take off. This frustrated me for quite a while until yesterday, when I took these photos. Why try to take a static shot of a hawk perched in a tree when I can get shots of them flying. That's what they do best, anyway, with the exception of hunting for dinner.
I've long been attracted to hawks, although I can't say why. I certainly envy their concentration and graceful flying, and on cold days when I'm inside the car with the heat and gloves on, they're out in the elements, perched on a road sign or branch, always waiting, watching and, in my case, listening.
When I retire, one thing I'd like to do is more on-foot photography. There's not much time now, but I'd like to explore and see what wildlife and other beauty I can find. I have a name for the places I like: the sub-boonies or, if you prefer, the sub-sticks. The farther from civilization the better (of course, I make exceptions for convenience and thrift stores).
If you see a hawk, tip your hat for me.
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