Small Church Town is so small that my three-mile morning sojourn requires two figure-eights. (I quickly gave up walking along the highway two years ago. It's actually MUCH safer to walk in the suburbs and city than in the country!) As I walk down one of the narrow roads, I almost always see bluebirds on a particular telephone wire, and red-headed woodpeckers in a particular yard.
This morning I almost missed the bird that zipped across a field and into a tree, as I was wiping the sweat from my glasses, but it kindly zipped back out so that I could get a look: a Cooper's hawk. I suppose it could have been a large sharp-shinned hawk; what do I know? But I'm going with Cooper's.
My friend Lisa frequently writes about the significance of birds in her life. Mine are the gannet and the kingfisher; I have long histories of encounter and meaning with both of them. I seldom see Coops, although the habitat around here is their kind of place, and so I wondered at one suddenly appearing.
I decided it might have some significance for me, with a big-zero birthday looming in the next couple of weeks, and so I googled "Cooper's hawk totem" and found:
"[O]vercoming/removal of obstacles, vision, rebirth, healing, spirituality, freedom, high-mindedness, speed, [and] grace."
I'm good with that. Happy Birthday to Me!
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