It's a beautiful day in New Orleans. The sun is shining. It's warm (in the 60s). Hubby and I spent the morning working in the yard. Well, he did most of the work. I'd work for a while, then sit for a while. The back yard is beginning to look like someone cares.
During one of my setting sessions, I brought out the shrimp for dinner tonight and began to peel the shells. A hawk flew circles over my head a few times then settled on one of the patio chairs and stared at me. Made me wonder who he had been in another life. Then I realized what he wanted. I ran my fingers through the pile of shrimp and found a few small ones. One by one I handed them to him. The bird ate out of my hand. A hawk ate out of my hand!
Richard gave me a hard time about it when the hawk finally decided I wasn't going to give him any more shrimp and flew away. Richard said "that "damned bird" could have bit you." Yeah, he could have, but he didn't. And, I can't tell you what it felt like to have a wild hawk trust me like that.
Maybe on another nice day in the future (supposed to storm tonight and in the morning) I'll take a few shrimp out on the deck and see if my hawk comes back.
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