The Hawk and the Crow

This morning, as the sun rises, such that anything its slanted rays touch seems made of solid light, a red-tailed hawk is perched on a playground basketball court backboard. I see it backlit by the sun. On the sidelines, as it were, a crow on a fence is incessantly croaking. The hawk pays it no mind, but the crow insists. Finally, the hawk takes flight, spinning a graceful circle in the air. Unexpectedly the crow takes off after it, making a swift arc toward its nemesis. Where they meet, the crow pecks twice, but the larger bird shrugs off the blows. Perturbed enough, though, maybe, it lands on a fence pole, while the crow settles not far off, on the same fence, and keeps croaking.