By the time I returned from the store, bright sunshine had warmed the air to forty degrees. As I struggled to close the patio door while carrying 4 bags of groceries, I happened to glance skyward and saw a lone hawk soaring high above in a cobalt-blue sky. “The winter hawk,” I instantly thought. Sailing, wheeling, wings spread wide and motionless, he was a feathered glider coasting from thermal to thermal. I imagined him looking down on his domain. What he was looking for I didn’t know. Food, perhaps – I’ve seen wild rabbits and opossums near my house, and there is certainly no shortage of squirrels.
I’ve seen the winter hawk before, many times. I’ve seen it sailing below rooftops, gliding past me a stone’s throw away. One day I walked down to the river and took photos of the winter landscape. Upon examining the photos, I noticed one in which the hawk was perched high upon a bare, leafless tree limb, looking over the river, looking in my direction. Was it the same hawk? Perhaps it’s keeping an eye on me. In folklore, witches had familiars – animal guides – that were believed to be supernatural beings that could assist them in their practice of magic. Native Americans had their spirit animals that acted as guides, messengers, or protectors. I wonder if my hawk … but I let the thought drop.
Hawks migrate in fall and spring. My hawk is a winter hawk. When spring approaches he’ll take his leave and I won’t see him again until there is a chill in the air and autumn leaves begin to fall. Then, I’ll see him when winter arrives. I always do.
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