wildlife

Sitting by the back window eating my breakfast and watching a small white-breasted hawk high in the neighbour's tree do the same thing - he is tearing pink meat from a bone, perhaps the carcass of a bird - the black squirrels nearby are unconcerned, so it's not squirrel. Looks like a meagre meal. Now the bird is pulling out his own breast feathers, fluttering down like snow. This morning, the "Star" reported that a coyote found roaming the streets of Cabbagetown just a few blocks from here was just shot by police, provoking outrage because coyotes are not dangerous to human beings.

Civilisation indeed. A thin veneer. Underneath, we're savages in a savage world.

Speaking of which, my mind keeps flashing on John Boehner's face yesterday, the flickers of disdain playing over the eyes in that smooth tan, as he listened to Obama speak about equal pay for equal work and raising the minimum wage.

I was also just looking at my iPhoto gallery, because my Booboo is away in Saskatchewan with his mother, and I miss him terribly. When you reach the end of your most recent shots in iPhoto and click once more, it sends you back to the pictures taken a year ago. I was blindsided by this shot that just came up - exactly one year ago, in February 2012, my tall mother, strong, independent, beautiful, with a friend.

A different kind of missing terribly.

Young hawk finished breakfast. He sat preening in the sun for a moment and then flew off. Time for me, too, to fly into this bright cold day.