Early June Urban Wildlife Encounters

      On Monday night, I went for an evening stroll through Roanoke Park. I sat on a bench in the Northeast corner and observed. I like to scan the treetops for Hawks but I saw none. Instead, something made me look down to the overgrowth on my right. The overgrowth is right at the edge of a heavily wooded hill. I watched the grassy area move like a deliberate zig-zag wind was blowing through it. I was certainly imagining it but, then, a small gray creature partially emerged from the grass. I couldn't see its face and I think it was too big to be a mouse. It was some type of small gray varmint probably a shrew or a vole? As it emerged and partially revealed itself, it squeaked and squealed as if it realized it had possibly revealed itself to predators like the Great Horned Owl that flew over me in the same area on Sunday afternoon. Quickly, it darted back under the cover of the ivy-like ground cover and disappeared from my view.

     
     Yesterday evening, Tuesday evening, as I was walking on the sidewalk that passes in front of that bench, I saw a small gray blob on the sidewalk, maybe, ten feet in front of me. As I got closer, I could see it was a tiny but fully-formed very cute rabbit. It seemed to be frozen in place and I wondered if it was sick. I actually asked it if it was sick. If it was, it was still definitely alert and it was paying attention to me. It almost seemed to be trying to understand what I was asking of it. I thought it might be thirsty and I had a bottle of water so I poured it out a bunny-size puddle of water. As the puddle expanded outward and, almost, reached its front feet, the bunny darted off by, first, completing a 180-degree flip turn. It, then,  darted away by hopping very quickly back into the same overgrowth of ivy that the nameless gray creature had rustled back into the previous night.

     On the same night and prior to my bunny encounter, I had one of my most dramatic, astonishing encounters with a Red-Tailed Hawk ever. As I walked down the beginning of the hill at the intersection of Madison Ave and a very short block of 36th Avenue West, I looked up into a yard bounded by an old stone fence. Actually, I didn't look up so much as I saw something in my peripheral vision that made me look twice because it was unusual. What I was seeing was a Red-Tailed Hawk landing on the ground within, maybe, one foot of a tree to its left. The Hawk was facing me. I watched as it folded its wings into its body and settled on the ground with, as it turns out, a specific objective in mind. On the bottom of that tree trunk was a squirrel headed to the ground and frozen in mid-scamper as it realized the perilous position in which it found itself. Its tail twitched periodically but it made no sound. There was another man walking a dog who saw this whole thing going on too. He took pictures of the Hawk with the camera on his phone.  Even though a picture can last forever its not as vivid to me as my own eyes watching and seeing something in 3D. The waiting became intense. When would the Hawk take the squirrel and fly off to eat it?  It seemed inevitable. The man walking his dog began to continue on the walk instead of waiting because he said he wanted to "avoid the carnage". As he said that, however, and started to walk away with his Boston Terrier in tow, the squirrel got a reprieve. This stranger and I watched the Hawk lift up and fly off to some very tall Evergreens with sparse lower branches. He could see where the Hawk landed and pointed it out to me. However, as I continued on my walk and looked for it, my aging eyes failed to see the Hawk in the tree. I, like the squirrel, got a sort of reprieve. I often walk Roanoke Park as a loop because there is a good hill that offers what I feel is good cardio for my aging heart and I, usually, do multiple loops. On my second loop past the trees into where the Hawk had flown, I saw it quite clearly.   I stopped to observe it and could tell it was aware of me as well. It seemed to be in plain sight even though I had not seen it when the stranger with the dog had pointed out where it was in the trees. Up close, it was magnificent. I hid behind a tree trunk and poked my head out. The Hawk saw me right away. I, then, ducked back behind the tree trunk and stuck my head out the other side. The Hawk was ready for me and saw me right away. I played peak-a-boo with an Urban Raptor and it was exhilarating.