The Morning of the Hawk

It's a dreary, overcast, breezy, and chilly day here in the Upper Hemisphere but there was one bright spot this morning.  I'd done my yoga and was drinking my coffee, thinking about whether I wanted Cheerios or granola for breakfast (turns out I wanted a bagel) when I glanced out the patio doors to see this hawk all puffed up and windblown sitting on the fence.  Within about a minute it spied something, leaned to the left, and dived at whatever was foolish enough to move.  In another couple minutes it was back, showing me its back and tail this time, but soon it turned around to see if any birds, squirrels, or chipmunks were out and about.  A couple chickadees bounced around in the highest branches of the tree but the hawk was unfazed.  Then I saw a flicker of gray off to the right and this squirrel was slinking up, twitching its tail, and chattering to beat the band.  The hawk was unimpressed.  They stayed this far apart, playing chicken for about 5 minutes, then the squirrel jumped into the tree, scolded the hawk a bit more, and then left.  After a few more minutes of nothing going on the hawk spread its wings and flew off.  I love it when hawks come even for a few seconds.  This long visit was a real treat.

I got the Mitten Bear's back legs crocheted and sewed on yesterday, the ears and tail too.  Now all that's left to do is embroider the nose, eyes, and toes, then make the mole, rabbit, and knit the mitten to hold them all and that's done.  That's really all the Christmas making I've got on my list, unless I decide to whip up some dishcloths or makeup remover pads for stocking stuffers.

Last night's prompt writing attempt was pathetic, to say the least, so I'm going to leave you with a quote from Dave Barry that I found on the 1,000 Places to See Before You Die Page-a-Day calendar.  

"There's nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the surface of the ocean itself, except that when you finally see what goes on underwater, you realize that you've been missing the whole point of the ocean.  Staying on the surface all the time is like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent."  

Exactly.  Well said, Dave.  (now I can slap a pretty underwater picture on here to lighten up the December drabness)
--Barbara