A Rare Event.

 A couple of days after we got home I walked into the sunroom and looked at something in the front yard. At first I couldn't tell what it was--a brownish lump sitting in the shade under our willow tree. It was moving and I soon realized it was a big bird of prey and seemed to be injured. After a second I saw that it was a red-tailed hawk. The bird's back was to me and the red tail obvious against the green grass. The wings were out at what looked to be an unnatural angle and draping the ground.

Well, the raptor center where birds are rehabilitated is less than two miles away so I figured I'd best survey the situation in case I needed to toss a blanket over the hawk and drive it to the experts.

The second I stepped out the hawk stood up and began to wobble off and I realized it wasn't injured. It had just killed a squirrel and had been using its wings to hide and guard its kill. After a couple of steps it stopped with its prize so that it could turn and face me. I realized this was a rare chance and ran back into the house for my camera, pausing just long enough to fix a telephoto lens. In a few seconds I discovered that the hawk didn't care when I crouched down about seven feet from her and began to take photos.

Since the bird was a large one I reckoned it was a female, who typically grow much larger than the males. As I watched her she began to devour and dismember the squirrel. In much less time than I could possibly have imagined she had consumed about 90% of its corpse; fur, skin, bones, flesh, guts, and all. By the time the rodent had been reduced to the tail, some uneaten muscle tissue, and a bit of spinal column she gathered the remains and herself and launched into the sky, carrying away what tiny bit of the squirrel that was left.

When I walked to the spot where she'd had her lunch I couldn't find even a shred of meat or a drop of blood. A rare sight and event that afforded me some killer photographs.

I doubt I'll get a chance to take a closeup of a wild hawk like this again.

She was busy tearing that squirrel to bits.

I wish I could have anticipated this move when she spread her wings.

Giving me the stinkeye and hovering over her kill.

About how she looked when I first spotted her, only her wings were closer in to her body. At this point she was dragging the squirrel closer to the driveway to move away from me.

Notable Critters

Carole and Andy and I have encountered many animals in our travels to various parks and forests around the southeast. We've bumped in to everything from big mammals like elk, bears, coyotes, and manatees, to really tiny things like butterflies and scorpions.

But there have been a couple of exceedingly notable critters in all of our trips, and both of these were encountered in separate journeys to Florida.

The first really standout animal was a thieving hawk who posted itself at our campsite at Juniper Springs Recreation Area and attempted to steal the steaks and burgers from our grill. However, Carole had stoked the grill so aggressively that the coals were super-hot. Just at the point the raptor was almost able to grab the meat off the coals, the temperature was so intense that he had to swerve aside at the last instant and so left with nothing but the sounds of our surprise.

The hawk (I don't know if it was a he or a she), then took up temporary residence in a tree above our campsite and waited for us to make the mistake it would need to take food. But we'd figured out its game and finally it gave up. Instead, it flew to a family a few campsites over from us and took their steaks. Better their dinner than ours, I say.

Later, we encountered a campground regular who had dealings with the hawk from previous trips. He just posted a portable umbrella over his grill area and that settled that.

"Yeah, I'm guilty. What ya gonna do about it?"

The second critter that made an impression on us was the raccoon who tormented us for days at Blue Spring State Park. The first day we were there, as we were setting up our camp, this raccoon showed up while our backs were turned and snagged a packet of hamburgers from the cooler it had overturned while we were otherwise engaged. All we could do was follow its felonious little footprints into the underbrush. Lesson learned.

Later that night, as we were watching TV in our travel trailer, Carole looked as the same raccoon opened our front door (Carole had left it ajar) and barged into our personal living space! Carole screamed bloody murder as its small masked face appeared around the edge of the refrigerator. The noise forced the trouble-making asshole into a hasty retreat. But Carole must have angered the varmint, for the following morning she looked for her sandals (which she'd left by the door) only to find that one of them had been stolen. We never found it, and the only explanation that makes any sense at all is that the raccoon took it out of spite.

The day after that the raccoon returned again. She came out of the brush as we were preparing lunch and sat herself down right in the middle of our campsite and dared me to try to move her. By this time I was fairly sure it was a female, since she looked to be very pregnant. Yes, it could just have been a particularly fat and healthy raccoon, but I tend to think she was pregnant and eating for the many little assholes growing in her womb.

I had to post myself between her and the food that day. Later, we stopped at the ranger station to complain and the ranger showed up with a live trap. The next morning it only held a silly possum, and we had to leave soon after. The ranger assured us that if she caught the real culprit that she would not harm her, only move her away from the campground. I'd like to think that she didn't cause anyone else the problems that she made for us, but who knows?

She sure looked pregnant to me.