In the scheme of things, I love being the human in this animal kingdom of ours. But sometimes, I’m ashamed of our tactics.
I turned a corner in the estates the other day and there, hanging between one of the social halls and a home was a forty-foot strip of crime scene tape. Now, I’ve watched enough CSI and NCIS to be quite conversant with crime scene procedure and protocol. No investigators were present, so I surmised the “scene” was being secured for further investigation.
I mean, how cool is this? How often does this excitement come to our little enclave?
Yeah, I know, I soon sobered to the occasion and realized something horrible must have happened. One too many Wednesday night meat loaves? Too much bran in the muffins once again? One too many pairs of whitey-tighties left “near” the hamper? The faucet still dripping after all these months . . . years?
I’m glad to report, ”None of the above.”
It seems we have a red tail hawk’s nest in the pines towering over the club house. Evidently she’s been swooping and sashaying toward any moving object near the hall. So far it’s affected bingo attendance, pot-luck participants and two texas-hold-em tournaments. Think about it, if you were on your way to the “Emergency Preparedness Meeting” last month and out of nowhere comes a screeching mother from on high, talons open and beak ready to scalp you . . . what would you think? You’ve been preparing for earthquakes and fires and here comes a missile from the heavens, ready to give you a new name, “Ol’ One Eye.” Now this is an emergency!
Someone contacted the local branch of Fish & Game Department and was advised it was most likely a mother hawk and she was simply protecting her infant’s nest. The F&G folks further encouraged us to disrupt the hawk’s flight pattern. Where one of our folks got crime scene tape, I’ll never know!
Well, the yellow tape is down now. I haven’t seen mom nor baby recently. I suppose we did the right thing for the Golden Ponds Senior Mobile Home Estates. But I sure miss that beautiful bird.
I’ve sat motionless at times on the ponds trail after I spied her ahead in one of the trees. I’d look ahead for her every time I took that trail. Like a statue she’d study the shallow pools; patiently she’d pick her prey. I’ve seen her descend on lizards, rodents and fish. A meal in her talons almost every time.
An odd thing happened on Memorial Day. About 2:30 in the afternoon, all the kids were in the swimming pool of our family’s newest home owners. Their abode is in the foothills that abut upon the barren land that precedes the National Forest. My son, Tim, saw a red-tailed hawk with prey dangling from strong talons. We estimated the snake was at least 6 feet long. The snake, twirled and fought against the muscular talons and the hawk rose higher and higher on the updrafts in the hills. We must have watched him clutch and circle for three or four minutes, at times out of sight and then moving back toward us again. Finally, the master of the currents alternated down drafts and aeronautic precision and landed in the “no-man’s” land amid scrub oak, yuccas and mustard grass. Out of sight, the hunter enjoyed his meal, no doubt.
How majestic, how knowing, how suited to his environment he is. And we respond to such heavenly displays . . . with crime scene tape.
