Sunday, June 28, 2009

The hawk

Yesterday was hot and the air was still. As I was driving home I passed a big meadow along the road, full of dry, yellow grass and ringed with fir trees at the far edge. My eye was caught by a glimpse of something brown against the dark green trees: a large hawk, floating lazily over the field in big swooping circles. As I got closer I realized there was a boy at the edge of the field, clearing weeds along the road. He had a wheelbarrow full of weeds he'd already cut down, and was taking a break, leaning on the handle of his pitchfork with his hat tipped back, also watching the hawk.

Scenes like this are one reason I love living out in the country.

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