The first thing I heard as I was waking up this morning was the cry of a red shouldered hawk. There are several living in our neighborhood, and sometimes they'll visit our yard to watch the feeders, but I've never been lucky enough to catch them with my camera.
This afternoon we caught a short break in the rain, so I went for a walk by the lake and saw a large bird flying low to the ground. I've seen a green heron in that same area twice now, so at first I thought I might be tracking him again. Then my mystery bird finally landed in the tree, and I was so happy to see it was a beautiful red shouldered hawk.
An interesting note: Last year, the first thing I heard on New Year's Day was a single coyote howling. I had been reading a book where the author used the metaphor of "finding one's pack," and as a person who feels out of place in most situations in my life, I took that as a sign that 2018 would be about finding my place, and in another sense, my voice. That ended up being true, in several different aspects last year.
Now I am wondering what the significance of the hawk will be. Food for thought!