Mauled Hawk Morning….

 

 

(above painting….obviously a RedTail, not a Cooper’s)

Mauled Hawk Morning….

This is mostly for Steve New….a friend of over 25 years, from Devon, and now in the wilds of the coast of France. he was, and is, a Master Falconer. He was a terrific guide for me when I was an apprentince falconer…which only lasted a year.

Off the back porch, on the flagstones this morning was a bird. Still alive but with a broken left foot and some piercing under the wing on the left side. She just looked at me, and spread her wings. I think it was a juvenile Cooper’s Hawk, very stripped, and she wasn’t aggressive. Probably had flown down for a drink in the dry birthbath. For the next 20 minutes I tried to get her over the fence where she would be ‘safe’ from my dogs. Threw a blanket over her, but she kept turning around and though she only could grab witn one foot, she had some impressive black talons. And they bite.

Short story, I remembered I had a net, but trying to get her OUT of the net as I threw It over the fence (neighbors….our back yard has too much junk of my husband’s to get a clear launch) and she kept getting tangled. Finally she let loose and fell onto clear grass. I can tell she can fly, but only short distances…. I knew she probably was hungry and thirsty, so I lobbed cracked eggs over the fence to her. She was curious. In turning from the damn fence, I fell across a wooden platform on the ground and messed up my knee. There is always a sacrifice to be made in these things. I wanted to take her to a bird vet, but the closest was way in N. Ga. About 60 miles away.

Some times you can do just what you can do. Husband is coming home at lunch to see the hawk. He has a good heart and will want to catch her and take her to N. Georgia. I don’t think she will survive.

Ten years ago a young Cooper’s hawk flew down on our back porch. She mantled over to where we had a new pup in a cage. Our son ran in the house where he got some cooking chicken from a crock pot. He threw it to her, and she grabbed it and flew off. We thought this was the end of her. 20 minutes later she was back sitting in our willow tree. She flew up to the apex of the porch roof and looked down at us. Son got some sausage balls and rolled them up to her. She would hop down to retrieve. She hung around a while and then flew off. They have a territory of 400 acres and we saw her over our property frequently. So our hearts go out to this young hawk. Maybe a hatching of the original?

I pray to Jizo, the ‘saint’ of travellers, that she survive

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2019

 

 

 

“Ode to a Cooper’s Hawk”, posted for d’verse poets….

ODE TO A COOPERS HAWK

 

Come to me.

Come to me,

Winged celestial beauty.

Come to me with your notched

Mermaid tail,

Your silken roll of feathers.

Fly down into my hollowed-out soul,

Fill me with your sun-warmed glory

Nestle in my arms

And bring the curve of the horizon

Embraced in your outstretched wings.

 

I need no white bearded prophet,

No mumbled prayer, no gospel song

No hard church bench, no fast or

Festival to feel close to the Divine.

 

 

The glory of the universe,

Is embodied in your flight

As you tumble through heavens,

Ride the invisible thermals

Screech with joy at freedom

Fill your lungs with thin air

And play bumper car with an Eagle.

 

I, earthbound,

No hollowed bones to launch me,

Just tired soul weighed down,

No soft plumage feeling the course

Of wind through glossy feathers,

No hunting call to herald my presence.

 

Still,

My soul takes flight

The breeze lifts my spirit,

My eyes follow you,

And we will find that glory-

Transcend a sullen earth

Transcend a mean humanity

And soar together into the blue eye of God.

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2016

‘Reason For The Season’ ……And Happy Holidays.

A REASON FOR THE SEASON

I saw the Cooper’s hawk this morning. She landed on the chimney pot, probably looking for my miniature hen, Grayson.  Four years ago she was a starving fledgling who mantled over while I fed her cold chicken.  She’s back this holiday, my spirits lifting. A good Christmas present.

–

In the middle of the commercialization of Christmas, Nature closes the gap.  I have noticed squirrels with pecans in mouths leaping the trees, hawks hunting low over now-bare woods, unknown song birds sitting on fences, heard the migration of Sandhill cranes as they honk in formation. You hear their cacophony well before they appear.  Their chiding cries float down to our upturned faces.

–

There is brightness to the holly, washed by our late autumn rains and the orange of the nandina berries has turned crimson. Smell of wood smoke in the air and the crispness of mornings means the earth is going to sleep.

–

We humans should reclaim our past and fecal plugs and join the slumber party of our brother bears. Jingle Bells will fade and our tension with it. Looking towards deep winter when the Earth is again silent will restore our balance and calm nerves with a blanket of Peace.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2008-2014

“A Reason for the Season”….

Clach Mhullinn….home

 

 

A REASON FOR THE SEASON 

   I saw the Cooper’s hawk this morning. She landed on the chimney pot, probably looking for my miniature hen, Grayson.  Four years ago she was a starved fledging who mantled over while I fed her cold chicken.  She’s back this holiday, my spirits lifting. A good Christmas present.

   In the middle of the commercialization of the season, Nature closes the gap.  I have noticed squirrels with pecans in mouths leaping the trees, hawks hunting low over now-bare woods, unknown song birds sitting on fences, heard the migration of Sandhill cranes as they honk in formation. You hear their cacophony well before they appear.  

   There is brightness to the holly, washed by our early winter rains and the orange of the nandina berries has turned crimson. Smell of wood smoke in the air and the crispness of mornings means much of nature is going to sleep. We humans should reclaim our past and join the slumber party of our brother bears.

   Jingle Bells will fade and our tension with it. Looking towards deep winter when the Earth is again silent will restore our balance and calm nerves with a blanket of peace.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2009-2013

“Ode To A Coopers Hawk”, posted for OneShotPoetry.blogspot.com

American Bald Eagle, watercolor, janekohut-bartels, 2001

Recently I went through a loss and an argument.  I woke up with this poem in my mouth:  it expressed a lot of my feelings, especially about religion and spiritual issues. 

I haven’t all the answers and I don’t expect to.  That is what life seems to be all about now….the unrelenting chase of finding things that make sense, and especially promote growth: spiritual, intellectual and emotional growth.

Picking those people who are healthy for your spirit to develop is always the issue.  I wish life was longer, because I need the time.

The world is Big out there….and there are wonderful people to meet.  Wonderful people already in your life.

This poem is for Margie.

Lady Nyo

–

Ode to a Coopers Hawk

Come to me.

Come to me,

Winged celestial beauty.

Come to me with your notched

Mermaid tail,

Your silken roll of feathers.

Fly down into my hollowed-out soul,

Fill me with your sun-warmed glory

Nestle in my arms

And bring the curve of the horizon

Embraced in your outstretched wings.

–

I need no white bearded prophet,

No chorus of angels,

No mumbled prayer, no gospel song

No hard church bench, no fast or

Festival to feel close to the Divine.

–

The glory of the universe,

Is embodied in your flight

As you tumble through heavens,

Ride  invisible thermals

Screech with joy at freedom

Fill your lungs with thin air

And play bumper car with an Eagle.

–

I, earthbound,

No hollowed bones to launch me,

Just hollowed soul to weigh down,

No soft plumage to feel the course

Of wind through glossy feathers

No hunting call to herald my presence.

–

Still my soul takes flight

The breeze lifts my spirit,

My eyes follow you,

And we will find that glory

Transcend a sullen earth,

Transcend a mean humanity

And soar together into the blue eye of God.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2011