Yesterday, around mid-day, I finally got a chance to snap a photo of the hawk (or falcon?) that’s been visiting my garden. I heard him trilling outside the window, and I went outside to investigate. After a few minutes, I saw a shadow swoop down from the sky. In response, all the morning doves in the yard scattered, and the suburban raptor perched on a nearby tree, on the hunt for a meal.

I ran back to the house for my camera as I cursed the thorn that just lodged in my foot. When I returned with my camera, I slowly approached his resting perch, and even from about 30 meters back he was watching me, skittish. I realized that if I was going to take my shot I had better do it now; my subject didn’t seem too interested in close-ups. I zoomed in and snapped the photo in this post.

I tried approaching closer, and he flew to another tree in the yard. I prepped my camera for another shot. I slowly approached in search of a better angle, and he swooped close to the pavement in the street. I saw his shadow move down, and then disappear from view. As I ran to the street to find him, he was gone.

I’m still in awe of the fact that our little parcel, smack dab in the middle of Albuquerque’s suburbia, would attract such a majestic creature. I’ve lived here for over 20 years, and the closest I’ve ever seen a bird of prey to the city is either several thousand feet in the sky or perched in a tree in the foothills, at least a 15 minute walk from the nearest road.  It seems I’ve inadverdently created a micro-wildlife sanctuary in the middle of the suburbs.