Monday Blues: Eviscerated

 First were the entrails. Second, another fifteen feet along the trail, was the carcass from which the first had been extracted. No, that is not quite right - first was the hawk. Preoccupied with its meal, I had ridden up on it especially close before it realized the danger and, opening and closing its great wings, it easily lifted from the trail, red tail feathers glowing with the light of the evening sun. Very much like the hawk and owl tussle I witnessed last year, there was no time for a photo; in another few seconds time, he was gone. I couldn't imagine him surrendering a prize so easily and hoped he might come back, give me another chance, with the camera ready this time. Continuing along the trail, just far enough to disappear around the next bend, I stopped, waited, then went back. Nothing there but an eviscerated rabbit. Maybe if I did a short loop instead, maybe six minutes, maybe seven, perhaps only five but, maybe, long enough to put hawk at his ease. I was convinced he was perched somewhere nearby, watching, waiting. But hawk's got more sense than that. So be it, but I would give it one more shot, ride a full loop up to the dam, down through all the known single-track, and one more pass by the abandoned meal before heading for home. Still no hawk, and with the light falling from the sky, i saw no way hawk would be back; the darkness would bring coyote out, and the rest of the meal would belong to him. 

The Monday Blues has been an occasional feature here at the blog since inception; the blues, an emotion, a color, a genre of music, with a cycling twist.