Sunday, my purple plum tree was invaded by a hungry sparrow hawk! The ample accipiter did not quietly approach. Oh no! It crashed into the upper limbs sending a bevvy of perching birds to wing and nearby bittersweet bush.
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And I, Noll, but a few feet away, tied to the deck because the grass was too wet.
(As if I would melt walking through the dew!) But there I was, out of harm's way yet fiendishly close to the action.
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The hawk isn't the only one with "hawk-eyes!" Jumping up from her breakfast, I was immediately "rescued" and the hawk chased off.
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A short time later, Tiggy, Uncle Keaks and I found ourselves outside enjoying the sunny Sunday morn. I was tied to my tree sans hawk. Uncle Keaks was getting into his sleep-sitting position. Tiggy, by all appearances, was about to imbide in some nip - but what was on the other side of the nip was far more interesting.
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A sparrow! A dazed and confused sparrow. Within nomming distance!
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Tiggy got a good sniff. That's all he got. Old "hawk-eyes" was at it again.
The avian delight was "rescued" and allowed to recover, hidden in the black-eyed Susans.
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It lived to fly another day.
