[Marxism] Red-tail hawk sighting: Hawks and me, a short essay.

[dwalters@xxxxxxxxxxxx]

Hawks and me.

I live along the coast in a suburb of San Francisco, called Pacifica. Hawks,
especially the Red-tailed one in question, are quite common here. Hardly a day
goes by without seeing one perched on a street light or flying out in front of
you driving down the highway. I am simply never without awe in seeing these
amazing creatures. If one is lucky, one can see some prey in the hawks
talons...usually a gopher, little devils that tear up our nice, track-home
lawns. My locality is where the famous song "Little Boxes" was written about by
Malvina Reynolds. I live in one *those* houses. I fit right in, really, with a
pick up truck in the drive-way and the prerequisite 2.3 kids. Also, the house
is made of tickytacky but that's another story...[1]

The hawks are counter-intuitive for the very moogly looking housing that scars
the hillsides but, according to the real Audubon Society types in the area, we
have the maximum hawk population for the area which works out to so many hawks
for square mile. Some of the 'sub-urbanization' has actually helped the hawks,
it seems, as the non-native grass lawns are a haven for the little devil
gophers, the hawks are never without food, nor a perch to survey all their
domain. They truly own this place. You can tell by just looking at them.
Sometimes you want to get down on one knee and pay your respects.

At the sea-wall in Pacifica, where the Pacific Ocean is trying furiously to
reclaim the shore, there is often a "Cooper's hawk", a species larger than the
Red-tail but less colorful, and, golden eagles, monsters in size compared to
any hawk. The sea-wall has dozens of ground squirrels living in it, and they
come out to feed on peanuts and other types of food given to them by people
walking along the wall. One of these large eagles or hawks came swooping down
over my left shoulder to grab one of the little squirrels and carry it away.
Scared the hell out of me since you can't hear them when they are diving...I've
seen a small poodle taken by a hawk or eagle once in the same place, leash and
all and it's owner screaming all the way down the sea-wall trying to save the
doomed poodle. Oh well. Like watching a train wreck, but rooting for the hawk.
I really hate poodles, so useless. Thank god for my hawks?

There can never be enough hawks. They are grand.

David
[1]
Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of tickytacky
Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes all the same
There's a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses all went to the university
Where they were put in boxes and they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and there's lawyers, and business executives
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course and drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children and the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp and then to the university
Where they are put in boxes and they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business and marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.



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