I enjoy my morning walks because of all of the wild life I encounter. I have mentioned before the birds, the tracks we see, and the beauty of the surroundings. One thing that I have particularly enjoyed this summer is a pair of hawks.
They have a nest in the loblolly trees, and they soar around it in the morning calling to one another. The call sounds so wild and free. It is a sharp, bracing scream that reminds me of cowboy and indian movies from my childhood.
Irene's fury has been over for nearly two weeks now, and I still haven't heard or seen the hawks. I don't know if the storm damaged the nest or just scared them away, but the morning walk just isn't the same without them.
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