On the phone with my Sister (who is, by the way, doing very well), I abruptly interrupted her story with, "Sis, let me call you back. A hawk just got a bird."
Keeping boots, hats, gloves and jackets in the upstairs closet, I was out the slider in less than a minute and walking toward the scene of the crime. Of course, seeing me heading toward him, it flew, landing on a nearby branch.
The crime of the scene revealed nothing but a single feather.
Sitting on that branch devouring whatever little one it got, it never even looked over it's shoulder.
When it dove though, it's wings looked long and pointed and it was fast...incredibly fast.
I'm thinking Cooper's Hawk. Whatever it was, I wish it had turned around.
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