A pair of Swainson’s hawks were circling above a desert hillside near my home. As soon as one of them noticed me, it began to swoop down and sail just inches above my head. It would cry out as it climbed back into the sky--a sharp, high-pitched cry. I don’t know if it was protecting a nest, or simply guarding its hunting grounds (as the recent rains have brought out plenty of insects, lizards, and small mammals). I was surprised how close it came to me, but its gracefulness and precise navigation were truly spellbinding.
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