How a single bird changed my day

I was grouchy today. I had nowhere to go, and the girls were in Hyper-Crazy-Annoying Mode.
I putzed around the house, did some laundry, until I couldn't stand it anymore. I got shoes for everyone and got in the car. I needed to see a bird. A different bird than what was out at the feeders. I pointed the car towards Blanchester, and headed down Rt. 28, a long, straight and flat stretch of road. I was hoping for a glimpse of a hawk, and I have seen them along 28 before.

As if Fate had lined it all up for me, I saw one.
A red-tailed hawk, perched on a phone line.
I pulled a Mary...er...I mean, a U-Turn, and stopped right under where it was sitting.

Since hawks can see everything that is going on, I expected to maybe get one good shot before it flew away. But I got many shots. Many.
Look at that gorgeous face. Proud, fierce, haunting.

"Yes? Can I help you?"


I couldn't believe it just sat there as I fired the shutter over and over. I got lost in the subtle rusty streaks and the not-so-subtle deep brown belly band. Brown birds? Please. Ever wonder if they are as soft as they look? Well, yes and no. The flight feathers are stiff, as they need to be, but the contour feathers of the body are silky. And those gray eyes.
This is an adult bird, though not too old, I think. Old enough to have a full red tail (they get this in their second to third year) but young enough to still have relatively light eyes. It's not a precise science, but typically, their eyes darken as they age.

******
Why do I get so ga-ga about red-tails? They make me think of my Dad. He showed me my first red-tail...I remember standing on the sidewalk in front of their house, and Dad pointed up at a large bird circling above. He said, "See the red shining through? That's why they are called red-tailed hawks." I was blown away; not just because this beautiful bird was soaring right above us, but because my DAD knew what the heck it was!
*****

So, I thought I was pretty lucky to get some shots of this hawk just sitting on the light pole. And then it took off, flew over the car, and landed in a culvert on the other side of the car.
And it had dinner...

"Gotcha!"

A nice fresh meadow vole? Or one honkingly big mouse?
Whatever it was, I got to watch it being eaten. Lorelei was asleep, but I showed the picture to Isabelle, and she said, and I quote: "Oooh....that's a nice, big, fat, juicy mouse! Good hawk!"
That's my offspring for you...cares that the bird gets to eat.

After eating, it hop-flew up to a sign and I got a nice long look at the red on the tail and those seriously awesome talons. So what if they are the most numerous and widespread hawk on the continent? So what if you can see one on just about any highway?
They're just GD fantastic.
And this pose is pretty close to the one on my own personal Zickefoose.
Needless to say, my mood was much improved by this encounter.

In honor of my post yesterday, here's a picture of our famous Goetta:

The package on the left is Glier's...the largest producer of Goetta. Anywhere. If you are nice to me, I will send you some for Christmas.