It was a loud crash.
Somewhere in the back of the house.
I went into the dining room to look around.
Somehow my eyes wandered up from the floor towards the outside deck–right outside the double doors.
My eyes started taking in something very wild and incredibly close.
It was the broad feathery back of a large hawk, its tail striped and fanned open, with wings that stretched as wide as an unfurled banner against the doorway.
It swiveled its head in my direction–he/she looking a little stunned and dazed, and me looking just as wide-eyed.
Now I don’t happen to live in or around a deeply wooded area. I’ve got trees around, sure, but not a forest. I live in an urban area, about 5 miles outside of Columbus, Ohio. This gorgeous animal had somehow swooped down low enough over other houses , its radar pointed directly at my back door and mistaking it for a passage straight through.
So now what? I looked away long enough to call the Wildlife Center but got a canned message. How do you get help for an injured bird?
I pictured myself taking gentle yoga breaths as I dropped a giant towel over it, wings thrashing, talons gripping against it as I miraculously get it to the nearest vet somehow…
But as my mind was caught up with trying to figure it all out, it rallied.
It’s giant wings folded in, but with another flurry it made this glorious hop up to the railing. We both sat in quiet wonder, observing each other. For a long time, it seemed.
What a beautiful sight.
All that it needed was a bit of rest from the upset. And maybe some respectful space and appreciation.
Heal yourself and rest.
Animals know it instinctively.