DCV blog, in association with the Phil Foundation, proudly presents ........ Hazard Hawk and his Friends (1.0)

Once upon a time there was a hawk that lived in a high and comfortable nest mere minutes flight into (and out of) a forest that edged up from a swampy start along the sea. For the first few years of his life, this hawk, called Hazard Hawk by his friends for his rather caution-to-the-winds approach to foraging, led a comfortable existence in the canopy with his neighbors. Northern goshawks are known for their single-minded pursuit of prey and have been know to chase chickens into barns, or bloody their wings in shortcuts through thick foilage, even splash kamikazee-style into the sea in pursuit of unsuspecting ducks. Hazard Hawk took it a step further. The forest storytellers would tell tales of Hazard Hawk chasing rabbits into their holes and exploding upwards in flight seconds later out a separate hole, prey in talon. Certainly, the mythic orientation of these stories were but exaggeration, but well-suited in the easy conversations of the forest for a bird whose approach was beyond the norm.

The forest and the surrounding swamplands were filled with all sorts of creatures: birds, snakes, fish, and mammals of all sizes. And generally there was peace. Everyone adhered to the food chain, but it was done without the malice you generally see captured on the Discovery Channel. The animals spent their days in familiar patterns of sleeping, eating, sleeping, mingling, eating, and then sleeping. And while generally the stories at mingling time were light and airy as the fair weather cumulus that formed on the afternoon sea breeze, gloomy fog-filled afternoons often nudged forward tales of distant darknesses both on top of the sea, as well as east of the sea near the edge of the forested swamplands, areas where animals behaved savagely and in accordance with the ways of Man instead of the ways of animals.

The inhabitants of these tales will come into this story soon enough. It is best at this point to introduce you to a character closer to Hazard Hawk. Certainly it seems strange to us to consider a raptor and one of his potential prey to be friends. But that was the case between Hazard Hawk and Cautious Crow. Just as easily as we might slander one of our best friends behind his or her back (but with even more lasting consequences), be assured that Hazard Hawk would have eaten C.C. without a whiff of guilt had he ever been successful at the ambush. But most of the time, C.C. stood sentinel while Hazard Hawk stalked the local crow roost. Over time the two birds struck up small conversations, then larger ones, 'til gradually they were basically inseparable at mingling time. At least, inseparable beyond the safe distance that C.C. maintained.

The two friends were alike in many ways, but most different in their approach to feeding. C.C.'s caution may have even outpaced Hazard Hawk's recklessness. Whether it was some tasty corn or a grubby worm, the security of the situation governed when C.C. ate. His was a defense first mentality. Hazard Hawk had flown once through a series of thorn bushes in pursuit of an especially plump-looking hare (his preferred dining option) only to stun himself against the trunk of a forgotten maple. But in most things, the two birds were more similar than most of the forest creatures. They were both about the same age, in the second summer since emerging from their mother's nest. They both liked to talk which is not to say that they didn't listen. They both loved the vicariousness of added adventures lived from the other's perspective. Mostly, they both liked to explore. The descriptions of new places visited formed the backbone of most of their afternoon conversations.

"The surf was high again today at the point at the sands where all those fish died last year," cawed C.C. on this particular day just prior to the solstice.

"I've been there. It's not that far." countered Hazard Hawk, not as a challenge, but more as an unneeded reminder. Sandy Point was a geographic street corner of sorts, the furthest jut of sand encountered by Bobbin Creek as it joined the sea. Hazard Hawk instinctively preferred the interior of the forest to the open seascapes and had only been to Sandy Point two times in his young life. The first was in his birthyear summer when he had gotten lost. The second was this spring soon after C.C. had mentioned that the fishing boats had begun to make their way north along the shore and how from Sandy Point you could hear the conversations of the freeloading gulls that accompanied the boats out into the deeper waters.

(will write more later ...)