The critters are getting restless.
Leven had a large hawk land four feet from him in the brush yesterday and just sit there.
I had a hawk at my feet in the bushes the other day.
I saw the gigantic ringtail the other night and a surfeit of owls in the evening light on the way home.
Stephanie got into a long stare down with a bobcat on her back deck.
Hal has seen the first Swainsons hawk in Borrego.
We all watch the Santa Margarita River valley pretty closely. We know that the scrub will offer us a small white flower in a few weeks as a precursor before the ceanothus turns the canyon its beautiful shade of blue purple. Then the echium start their spires. Then poppies and lupines. Its all like seasonal clockwork.
As I drove by the hawk nest this morning on the way out I noticed that it had doubled in size. Wow, I thought, somebody has been busy. The nest was small by our normal standards last year, two years after the big nest blew down. Here is the picture of the diminutive red tailed nest.
I thought about how cool it was to see the hawks work, how smart they were and how they got down to business.
What a joy it was to see them build these nests, twig by twig.
I noticed the most beautiful hawk I had ever seen on a dead tree near the sycamore last week, I think it was the male, very orange in color.
And lo and behold tonight, what do you know, we have a mother hawk sitting in the nest. I always thought that nature was so smart, having babies hatch just as the trees can sprout the leaves that can give them privacy and color. All works so well, like a well orchestrated symphony.