Some Aerial Combat on the Evening Ride

 A great murder of crows rose into the evening air, croaking and cawing, running riot over the neighborhood crowding up against the wash. I couldn't tell what had disturbed them, but I wasn't close enough for it to have been me. I watched them wheel around a bit, their calls becoming more insistent all the while. They flew away toward the east but then wheeled, as one, and headed back toward the wash. That was when I spotted hawk; he was surprisingly casual considering all the vitriol and threats that were being cast his way, and he glided to the top of a power pole for a perch. I thought it a foolish move - he would be a sitting duck, out in the open like that. Thirty of the black cloaked squadron where nearly upon him when hawk finally realized the peril and took to the air again.

The pursuit was disorganized and haphazard, the crows gradually losing interest and breaking away singly or in small groups, still circling, still contributing to the cacophony, but for them the game was over. Eventually, maybe just under a minute after it started hawk banked hard to the south and now trailing only a handful of the ebony marauders, imperiously sailed off down the wash. Though I didn't see a single crow dive in on hawk on a daring strafing run during their aerial combat, the show was easily worth the price of admission to the evening ride.