The Day After the Election
I’ve just made another deposit on the house,
and I’m on my way back from the bank.
As I make my move to turn left from
Federal Highway onto Atlantic Boulevard,
a giant fluorescent green lizard leaps into my path.
I hit my brake. Others hit their brakes. Horns blare.
The creature leaps and thrashes, gyrates in the street,
discombobulated and disoriented,
searching for a way of escape through a maze of tires.
Two lanes over to my right, I see a guy on his knees
reaching under the rear of his car.
He pulls the writhing baby dinosaur out,
then jumps back in the front passenger seat.
While I’m still waiting for the green arrow,
the car passes on my right.
I see the lizard, (an iguana?) on his lap
looking out the window like a pet dog.
Now I’m thinking about the kindness of one,
what one guy risked to save something of another kind.
As I stroll up the path to our cottage
set in this serene little compound off a side street,
I see our cat perched in the window.
I smile, remembering how he scared us the other
night by hiding in the back of the closet.
We spent an hour and a half searching outside.
I wanted to kill him then.
I wonder… would someone would have
risked their life to save him if they’d found him
frightened and confused in a strange place.
I don’t see the hawk two feet in front of me
next to the brick path until I startle it,
and it flaps upward to a branch above me,
talons grasping its prey–a mourning dove, perhaps?
I watch for a long time while it tears into flesh.
Feathers flutter onto the cottage,
bits of bone plunk the roof,
and tumble down like hail.
I’m helpless to save, and I think
this, though, is the nature of a hawk—
to devour its own kind.
I took 130 photos. I’ve spared you the graphic ones. You’re welcome.
Louise Gallagher says
Powerful reflections.
Great photo — and story — and thanks for not sharing the graphic ones!
Sandra Heska King says
Thanks, Louise. And yeah… at least he didn’t waste any of his dinner… 😛
Dea Moore says
Wow, Sandy. I read this in my inbox and then the tease about the photographs sent me over. Thank you for gathering from the chaos out there. You’ll not find me on FB today. I guess I’ll go back eventually but today I’m over it. Hawks and Doves and dinosaurs that are saved….good stuff over here this morning.
Sandra Heska King says
I think taking a social media break is a wise move, dear Dea. Sending so many hugs.
Michele Morin says
Funny how all of nature seems to bear witness to our feelings of disarray.
Sandra Heska King says
Wow, Michele. Exactly that. You have a way with words.
Lyli @ 3dlessons4life.com says
We eat our own. So sad! I am thankful for the tenderhearted rescuers out there.
Sandra Heska King says
Me, too. xo
Simply Darlene says
Oh my word. I just wrote a small piece about a hawk attack in our duck yard yesterday… Even in the midst of meanness & chaos, kindness is everywhere. Searing compassion to our hearts is what we must do — as His, as brothers and sisters in Christ, and as Americans.
Thank you for sharing.
Sandra Heska King says
Amen to that.
And the thing about this one… I never expected something the stealth of something like that here… right in front of the window… nor for the hawk to be so bold as to wait until I nearly stomped on it before lifting up… and to continue it’s meal right above me. Rather scary.
Martha Orlando says
Stunning photo to match your stunning, thoughtful words, Sandra.
Blessings!
Sandra Heska King says
Thanks for reading, Martha. To think this all happened in the space of 30 minutes. Love to you.
susanshipe says
But those Iguanas??? Yikes.
Sandra Heska King says
I don’t know my lizards, but that was my first thought…
Donna Falcone says
Wow Sandra – the nature of a hawk. And hawks are pretty straight forward – pretty clear in their mission here on earth – eat – live – eat. Humans are so much more complicated. Sigh.
And so one day my mom turned all of the statue owls to face the wall where they stood. All of them. Why? Because she saw an owl drag a bloodied bunny across the pure white snow in our yard and lift off just before getting to the road – and she was so angry at all of the owls, her beloved owls, that she couldn’t look at their faces. Maybe she was disappointed in them – for being owls?
So many pieces of your poem story make me feel so many different things.
Sandra Heska King says
Oh my gosh, Donna! What a stunning story.
I wonder now in light of Laura’s FB post this morning if this poem would be stronger by deleting the last four lines of the first stanza… I think I shall ask her…
Sandra Heska King says
You know what? I don’t think I have to ask. I’m slashing them. 🙂 I think the title says it.
Donna Falcone says
I like it.
Sandra Heska King says
🙂
Laura says
I’m not sure a hawk would consider another bird species its own kind. Laying aside for a moment all symbolism of hawks and doves, are we more shocked when a bird kills another bird, a mammal another mammal, a reptile another reptile, than when an animal’s hunting goes outside its taxonomic class?
Sandra Heska King says
When I first wrote this, I didn’t even think about the symbolism of hawks and doves. 🙂
It could have been a bunny or a mouse or I suppose my cat if I let him outside, which you probably saw almost happened last week… sort of. In this case, it had feathers and wings…
Honestly, I’m not too crazy about that part of nature that requires one to eat another that’s likely smaller and weaker in order to survive, or just grow bigger and stronger.
I like how you always make me think.