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Photo: Window visitor

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(c) 2017 J.S.Reinitz


This feathered visitor knocked into the ground floor window at my day job (yeah, I need one of those to pay the bills).
Our office is next to a river, so we get all the excitement — bald eagles fishing in the winter, seasonal flooding, abandoned bull mastiffs trading water, dive teams looking for submerged cringe guns, and the occasional jumper (who ultimately lands in waist-deep water and knee-deep mud).
The hawk above saw something interesting on our features editor’s desk and thumped into the glass. After standing around dazed, he flew off.

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Photo: Circle of life

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So there I was, standing on the roof of a dilapidated house watching firefighters use high-powered saws to chop up, well, the roof (that doesn’t sound so smart at the moment, but it least the house wasn’t on fire), when the captain pointed out the hawk and the pigeon.

The hawk (maybe it’s a falcon, I don’t know my birds) was perched on a tree in the home’s front yard just about at eye-level. He was chomping on what was left of the pigeon. The buzz of the demolition saws didn’t bother him. He just sat there, eating his pigeon and watching us on the roof — dinner and a show downtown.