I miss the red-tailed hawk that lived in the wooded area behind the building I work in last summer. It was an awesome, inspiring animal. Sometimes I would see it cutting through the air diving into and through the other birds desperately trying to fend this perfect predator away from their precious nests. No amount of panicked squawking could scare that bird away. Other times, it would just soar agains the sky in wide circles bragging of its dominance.
I need hawk’s sense – to see three times better, to hunt three times better. I’d spy with my little eye all those things lurking in the woods below me and go in for the kill at 120 miles per hour. No trick would be safe. Top of the food chain – yes, that’s where I belong.