Hawks and handsaws
It would seem to be hawk season in Madison. David IMed me at work the other day to tell me excitedly about a redtail he’d seen chowing down on something vaguely rodentish at the West Transfer Point bus station. The very same day, I spotted what I think was a broad-shouldered hawk (striped tail) near the bay on my walk home.
(Yes, I still walk to work and back. Yes, there was a weird and still-unsolved murder in the neighborhood a few weeks back; I had to detour around the house in question that afternoon, as the police had it cordoned off, and I walk past that same house every day. Yes, there have been various other break-ins at businesses on Park Street. Yes, the park just north of the bay has a population of homeless people; I see them often. This is my neighborhood, damn it, and I won’t stop walking in it. Call it my small gesture toward sanity.)
Unfortunately, the weather has conspired to spoil what I had planned for David’s birthday. We were going to rent a car and go driving this weekend, but the ice and snow starts in earnest tonight and will last all the way through tomorrow, and I’m not nearly north-north-westerly enough to drive in that garbage when I don’t have to.
So I took him out for sushi yesterday, and I’ve wrapped his presents, including the one his mother sent, and we’ll just have to stay home and eat cake instead. Hmph.