Since the second year we lived in the mountains, Husband and I have thought that the red tailed hawk is our totem. The reason is that the second Spring we were in our house there, two hawks moved in to this huge tree in our back yard. We watched them every day until the leaves got too thick to see them clearly. We would catch a glimpse of them here and there, but I guess nature knows what it’s doing with that whole camouflage thing. Anyway, the next year, we saw two more hawks, and after some research realized that they were probably the same ones. So, on many days after work, we would sit out on our back porch with a glass of wine and watch them. They were awesome. Last weekend, when we went to move most of the stuff out of our house, we saw one of them again. Well, let me back up before I get too far into the story.
Friday, we went to our house for one of the last times after eating dinner at our hole in the wall Mexican restaurant where we had been regulars. And, what after all the complaints and rantings did yours truly do when I got there? Cried. And cried and cried. Basically cried myself to sleep. There I was about to pack up our things from our first home together. Sure, I had done almost nothing but complain the whole time we lived there, but that didn’t matter. All that did was that we were together in our house. Not a rental, one that we owned. One that was 15 minutes at the most from work. One where I would go every day at lunch and make lunch instead of packing it at 7:00 a.m. when I hardly even know my name much less what I might want to eat that day. One that we put so much work into. Yes, that house. Sadness.
The next morning was much easier although it was not without more tears. I have an image to uphold people. Come on. So, we packed and on Sunday morning, we loaded our truck. As we were loading up, I heard a bird call and looked up only to find the hawk from our back yard circling high above us. It was calling out as loud as I have ever heard, so what did I think of? Harry Potter. At the end of the 6th book, Dumbledore’s Phoenix is flying away singing a song of lament at his departure, and I am 100% sure that our hawk was doing the same. More tears.
To make our move even more fun, we have to store some of our things at my dad’s house because the townhouse is too small for all our crap. So, Sunday, we headed to Lonesome Dove’s where as soon as we pulled into his driveway, we saw a huge hawk sitting in the middle of a tree with no leaves out in the middle of a field. Out in the open where it couldn’t be missed. And, it wasn’t.
These pictures are from the first year we met them.
