A hawk — red shouldered, most likely — sat in our driveway Friday afternoon eating a mourning dove. When my husband arrived home, he was clutching the plump, struggling dove in his claws, beginning to dig into his meal. By the time I got outside, they were both gone, leaving behind a pile of feathers with chunks of flesh attached. Probably the dove was one of several pairs that lives up near the top of our giant Brazilian Pepper tree. We hear them squeak as they flap by, but rarely see them when they are up so high. Obviously the hawk did not have that problem — had probably been eyeing their nest from up high for a long time and seized the moment.
A few yards away in the front yard a few days ago, I was hose-watering our drought-tolerant, neglectful-me-tolerant, plants in the front yard when I heard the whirr of wings near my head. An Anna’s Hummingbird landed on the Butterfly Bush near my head. She was sitting so still and carefully, it took me a moment to realize she was sitting on a tiny nest exactly the same color as her chest feathers. I had just been thinking of dead-heading that bush! I will leave it until the eggs hatch and the babies fledge. Oh! Gladness! She was grey with just a touch of green. She sat so still I would not have seen her but for the whirr of her wings.