Hawks

Waking up late, I hear a single bird call, unique to my morning: "Cooper's hawk," I think to myself and then get up and promptly forget about it.  Walking out the back door a half hour later, the bird in question is now sitting on the neighbor's fence, its back to me.  Sparrows flit about in the bushes behind it, either not feeling like it's a threat or taunting it.  I take out my camera, but when I reach the alley, it has flown.  I look up and I see it in the tree above me.  Talking, very vocal.  I watch it for a moment, it looks down at me, and I leave because I don't want the neighbors to think I'm looking in their windows. 

They show up in my life periodically.  We're currently in an upward cycle of convergence.  I've been seeing them every couple of days now: hearing their voices, catching a glimpse as I look up and they fly past, coming across their feathers on the ground.  Then I won't see them again for months or years.