Kicking off the Holidays

Yesterday was the Thanksgiving celebration on my mom’s side of the family.   Amongst one of the highlights is there is usually a Kentucky or Louisville game and this year, Louisville went into South Bend and upset Notre Dame in a nail biter.

Also, I killed a hawk. 

Hawks are magnificent creatures that are at the top of their food chain here.  There are no area  predators that eat hawks that come to mind.  

It wasn’t intentional.  I drove over and picked mom up to drive to Greenville, IN, and we were Westbound on the Watterson heading to the Sherman Minton bridge when, out of nowhere, a hawk swooped down on my Honda and hit below my right headlight.

Mom had both hands on her mouth and was suddenly breathing like she was in a panic attack. 

“Huh, huh, huh!!!!”

“Was that a hawk?” I finally asked.   

It’s amazing the detail one can remember in what is a flash in the memory.  I saw his beak and eyes then there was a noticeable thud and it disappeared under my car.

“Oh my God!” she replied.

“I can’t believe he tried to swoop in front of me.”

“We should go back and get it,” she said.  “We’ll give it to Jeanne to cook.”

“Uh, no.”

The rest of the drive to my aunt’s was about why a hawk would do something like that.  We stopped to get ice and there was a large spot on my car where it hit, just under the right headlight.

I’ve heard of people hitting deer and cows, but hawks?  Turns out my uncle once killed an owl as it pancaked into the windshield on him and stared at him with its dead eyes until he stopped and removed it.

I don’t know why Pancake, my name for the hawk, swooped down like that.  Maybe there was a mouse against the concrete medium on my left side?  Maybe it had poor eyesight because it was an older hawk?  Maybe it was suicide by Honda?  If a hawk can spot a mouse from 200 feet in the air, how does it not see a Honda Civic?

I’ve always liked hawks.  We have one at work that flies in his/her territory and is a beautiful golden color.  She buzzed a coworker and I once walking into the building.  As many times as I notice hawks and see them at Cherokee Park or the parks in Central Ohio, I’ve been amazed by how effortlessly they glide and pounce on rodents.

Also, working in IT, I see hawks are our first line of defense against squirrels that eat through cables and disable networks, leaving my company dead in the water twice in my career. 

I looked up Native American folklore on the hawk.

This power animal is often considered as a messenger who brings messages from the spirit world and the unseen.  When the hawk shows up in your life, be sensitive to the messages it may carry and be receptive to your own intuition.  Just like the hawk can see in great detail at great distances, you may be able to perceive what others do not. You may have an affinity with piercing life great mysteries and divination in one form or another.

As far as omens go, I think killing a hawk probably counts as a bad one.