Tasty Morsels

Here's the hawk again. I couldn't resist. We are up on the cliff path, looking out almost at eye level. He's about thirty feet away, mostly intent on endless grooming, but so aware, head rotating, always alert. It seems like this is his territory, at least in the early morning. 

Days are thick and grey, needing the windshield wipers to clear the marine layer off the car window. But today it smelled like summer rain, not the ocean at all, and they were mowing the grass by the lighthouse, so I got this olfactory hit from when I was a kid--my dad mowing the lawn and stirring up that juicy fresh green smell, and the sweetness of rain coming through the screen porch. Uncommon gift.