The Daily Bucket is a place where we get together and share the things we've noticed in the natural world around us. It might be that robins are building a nest in the old apple tree out back or that the crickets outside your window are keeping you awake at night or that coyote pups up on the ridge are beginning to sing with their parents every evening. Doesn't matter what it is, nothing noted is too big or too small so please join in and tell us what is happening in your neck of the woods. Everyone is welcome.
I've gotten in the habit of tossing my camera in the front seat of my old pickup whenever I go anywhere lately because I just never know when I'll see something to photograph. Every now and then I'm rewarded with the opportunity to get some great pictures. Awhile back I was returning from town and took the long way home via one of the few (as yet) unpaved roads in our county. It runs through a sparsely populated area with only a few small farms scattered along it. As I was passing a field of red top clover I noticed there were dozens of dragon flies swarming over it. Curious as to what had drawn so many of them to this particular field I pulled over and got out to watch them and maybe see what they were up to.
The blurry dragon flies in the picture above are relevant to this diary only in that they are the reason I stopped in this particular spot to begin with. You can never tell what might fall into your lap if you just get out there and give nature the opportunity to surprise you. As I stood there sweating beside my truck, hoping to see one of the dragons land so I could at least get an I D on them , a young Red Shouldered Hawk sailed in and landed on a hay bale in the field just across the road I was standing on. I quickly forgot about the sweat dripping off my brow and the field of dragons and turned my full attention on the beautiful young hawk that had just been dropped in my lap
I still remember the first hawk that I saw up close and personal. She was a fully grown female Coopers Hawk that I believe was on the verge of starvation. She was as light as a feather and too weak to fly. After easily running her down, I took her home with me and put her in an unused shed where, with the help of a couple of mouse traps and an old single shot .22 rifle I fattened her up on a fairly steady diet of mice, rabbits, and squirrels. She readily ate whatever was offered without showing even the tiniest hint of gratitude. I well remember the way she would pounce on whatever I had just given her and then stand there glaring at me with those piercing eyes, as if daring me to try to take it away from her.
It wasn't long before she was able to fly weakly around the shed and within a couple of weeks it was as though nothing had ever been wrong with her. Way back then and to this day I have always believed it is just wrong to confine a bird and deprive it of it's freedom to fly. So even though I thought of her as my most prized possession I realized it was time to turn her loose. Very reluctantly and with many pangs of sorrow I carried her outside one day and with one last look into those steely eyes I tossed her into the air. She didn't seem to share my parting sorrows and in a flurry of feathers, without so much as a backward glance or a "Thanks buddy", she was gone.
I couldn't have been much over ten or twelve at the time, which means this all took place fifty some odd years ago. Even so, the memory of that bird is as clear today as if it happened last week. But my most vivid memory of her is of those piercing dark eyes, evoking absolute fearless defiance even while being clutched tightly in my hands as I carried her home that day. Since that day those many years ago there have been several occasions that I've been able to look into the eyes of other raptors and I always see that same look. No other creature can match it or even come close.
The hawk that had just landed across the road from me was a young Red Shoulder, not yet wearing his full adult plumage, but none the less beautiful for it.
He stood there on his hay bale throne like a regal young prince surveying his future kingdom, completely ignoring the insignificant human standing there in the road fiddling with the camera.
Which of course made this insignificant human quite happy as I stood there clicking off pictures as fast as my sweaty little fingers could push the button.
After a bit he even rewarded me with his high clear call; "kee-yer! kee-yer! kee-yer!"
Suddenly without any warning he launched himself off the hay bale and disappeared, out of sight behind it for a few seconds but quickly reappeared with his catch.
Whereupon he immediately finished dispatching the hapless victim.
I was very curious as to what he had caught but I didn't have quite enough zoom to tell and a few seconds later whatever it was had disappeared down his throat and I was left to watching him clean his beak with a couple quick swipes through the hay.I couldn't quite tell but I think he may have caught one of the dragon flies that were working the field.
But eventually I got greedy and thought to get a little closer. Unfortunately he wasn't going for it and with a shrill complaint, launched himself off the hay bale and on to less crowded hunting grounds, preferring I'm sure, one with no annoying humans around to interfere with his hunting.
In regards to the title of this Bucket, back in my military days, a very good buddy of mine from Boston introduced me to the saying "the hawk is out". I had no idea what that meant the first time he said it but he patiently informed me that it was simply a way of describing a very cold day. Which of course we haven't seen here in Missouri for a very long time. But I've always liked the sound of it so figured this diary would be a good place to use it.
So here in mid Missouri, the heat has subsided just a bit, high of 90 the last two days, down from a dozen straight days of triple digits. And we got an inch of rain during the day before yesterday and another 3/4 of an inch during the night, ending a two month long drought, so every creature in this area is breathing a sigh of relief I believe. I know I sure am.
So what's happening at your house? Got rain?