Look out your window!

A neighbor visits

Red-tailed hawk (photo: Rhododendrites, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

As I’ve written here before, Mama Moon frequently taps me on the psychic shoulder and draws me to my kitchen window, at the rear of our apartment building, just in time to catch her latest theatrical production.

But sometimes, it’s not her.

It might be a bird.

We have the usual cast of East Village characters here—the ubiquitous pigeons, House sparrows, and Mourning doves. Every now and then, a Blue jay might make an appearance flitting amid the trees or briefly perching on a neighboring roof or fire escape.

Red-tailed hawks, famously, make their home in Tompkins Square Park a few avenues away from our immediate, busy streets. But spying a hawk from my kitchen window is an exceedingly rare treat, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had. In fact, just yesterday, I was thinking about that, wondering when next I’d get a chance.

Clearly, the birding fairies were listening.

Finishing breakfast this morning, I walked into the kitchen to wash our dishes and immediately felt a gentle nudge to go straight to the rear window.

Red-tailed hawk!!!

This is photo is by Steven Kessel, not me, unfortunately!

I don’t know if my guy took a turn up the wrong street, but there he was, sitting on the fire escape right across from that window, head turned in my direction as if he’d been waiting for me to get there. And like:

Hi, there!!!

We looked each other right in the eyes.

I also spotted two Blue jays perched in the nearby trees, uncharacteristically unbothered. Strange to see, since Blue jays get hotly bothered by all kinds of things—predatory hawks being primary. I guess these jays had that Red-tail in their sights and nowhere near their nest—enough to keep them quiet.

My handsome visitor didn’t stay long. However—lucky for my wife, Deborah, who I’d quickly alerted to come see—he made a momentary stop on a tree branch before flapping off to go on with his day.

Birders often ask one another what bird they consider their spark bird, “the bird that hooks someone into their passion for birding.” (The Spark Bird Project).

I have a long list of birds I love to my soul, but my spark bird is the Red-tailed Hawk. The early 1990s heyday of dashing Pale Male (d. 2023) was when I first fell into birding, and soon drew Deborah into the pastime, mainly enjoying guided group walks through Central Park as well as Prospect Park and Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge. Pale Male was the Brad Pitt of New York raptors, the Prince of Central Park, and his romantic, well-publicized story attracted new flocks of birders to the pursuit.

Please believe me. After my most recent post’s focus on butterflies, I hadn’t planned to write about birds today. Instead, I thought about writing about the distraction, exhaustion, and emotional shutdown many people are feeling in light of disastrous government policies and actions here in the States and abroad. I’d run this matter past Spirit Self, hoping for a takeaway with useful tools and strategies for readers of this Substack.

Instead, here’s this Red-tailed hawk, perched just several feet away at eye level, carrying the now-familiar message that I must listen carefully, and I must answer and follow through when my heart recognizes the call.

Perhaps this is all Spirit Self wished to say to me today—and to you:

Pay close attention to the subtle. And look out that window. There’s something surprising and marvelous out there.

There’s still good reason to be here—and to be you. I can’t emphasize that enough. Still good neighbors and kin to greet and cherish.

Join me and a beautiful community of celebrants for Zoom Séance: Saturdays, March 21, April 25, May 16, and June 20. All 1pm to 3pm Eastern. And all free (donations gratefully accepted—message for details). To RSVP for one or more of these dates or to get on the email list, send a message!