The hunter

Swifter than poison,
Steely claws, scimitar beak,
The hunting hawk waits.

....
.....
I couldn't walk through the churchyard this morning.  There is a problem with rabbits.  They are undermining the walls and the gravestones, so desperate measures were called for apparently.

A team was there with dogs, possibly ferrets (although didn't see any) and this magnificent hawk.  

I thought about asking if I could go in and take photos ... then thought the better of it... so snuck this shot from a safe distance.

It made me think of this short poem from Tennyson:

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world he stands.


The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.


It begs to be read out loud  - then you realise the effect of the word thunderbolt, echoing the bird swooping down. Perfection!