The crying continues

I heard him today as I got up, it wasn't the strong virile cry of a hawk, but rather that same sound I heard on Sunday, right after I was told he lost his nest mate/best friend. I looked around but didn't see him, but yesterday awoke to the noise of birds, this was nothing unusual as there is are bushes right outside my bedroom windows and the birds love to gather there and sing in the morning. But this was different, this was more of a cacophony, and it was starting to give me a headache. I got up and went into the bathroom and looked out the window which is next to my bedroom, but saw nothing, still heard it, but saw nothing. When I came out to the other end of the house I heard it even stronger. I opened my side door and in the little treed courtyard we have I could hear the robins and Cardinals carrying on something fierce. My brain was still not awake though, saw nothing, closed the door. Then went into the living room to open the curtains, and what was right in front of me on the lawn?

Staring straight at me, or at least towards the windows was the one left alive, the hawk that I saw mourning on Sunday laying in the driveway ( read this post). And he or she had finally snagged themselves something to eat. It was sad because I love my squirrels , having raised two by hand from the nest stage, one was even paralyzed from the waist down, and we feed them at our backyard picnic table everyday. They are so comfortable in my backyard, well, it's theirs , that they will not even move from eating when I come home or go out on the porch. When I take my dog for a walk I have to yell at them to get up a tree! As you can see by this picture ( before we washed the windows) they are quite comfortable. But the Hawk has swooped through this area many a times, and every time that I know of he missed. But had better aim I guess in the front yard.

But it was so sad, he just sad there on top of it, then moved away, like he didn't know what to do. Like he was waiting for his friend to come join him for the meal. I took several pictures as he had always moved too fast for me when I saw him in the yard. But this time he just stayed there. Tried to move off with it but only got about 12 feet away. Then the neighbor came out and he flew off. I checked throughout the afternoon to see if he had come back to get his prize, but he never did, so when hubby came home he gave it a proper burial.

I was still sad for him, I think he was too grief-stricken to eat. I've watched birds all my life, my grandfather taught me about their wonderment and diversity as a small child, and I have seen them both in the wild and caged, but never have I seen the expressions I've seen on this bird. Such sadness, confusion, sorrow, just feeling lost, and I could relate. I hope that it goes away soon, but while the empathy was coursing through my mind, today when I opened the drapes to the back porch I saw some movement. I don't remember if I told you or not but this Spring we had house wrens build a nest in the little corner of the ceiling we'd made for them from chipboard and Styrofoam. I watched every day only 10 feet away, sitting here at my dining room table looking out the door as I worked on the PC. I didn't get to see them fledge, but hubby caught them early one morning and took some pics. Lately this past week, I've seen a couple around the porch, thinking they were the babies coming around because they remembered where they were born. I think one is one of them that found a mate because as I opened my curtains today, I was not greeted with death and grief, but hope and life. The second platform we put up on the rafters has the beginning of a nest growing on it, and I saw a little wren with his or her building materials go up into there, so my hope is to see life once again grow in my own backyard.

These are the three little babies that momma is trying to convince to come out of the nest this past Spring. The first was the hardest my husband said, but after that one came out the other two followed quickly but hung around on the porch for awhile.

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