I'm long overdue for an entry to @nelinoeva's weekly #smap contest in the Feathered Friends Community. This week's theme is Bird with Food in the Beak.

It was a dark and stormy morning. Crows screamed bloody murder as they congregated near a tall pine two blocks away. Me and my trusty sidekick, Pilot, ventured over to see what all the fuss was about. As soon as I spotted the subject of said fuss, I turned on my heels and sped back to my apartment at a fast clip to retrieve my camera, my confused and trusty sidekick bouncing along behind me, yelling "Wait! Where are we going? I still have to poop!"

Birds of prey have a reputation. They are fast. They are sharp. They are merciless. They are awe-inspiring. They are streamlined and quite beautiful. It's no small wonder that they are used in many human cultures as a symbol of strength and power.

Birds of prey are indeed majestic. But as someone who spends a great deal of time watching crows, and, subsequently, watching the Red Tailed Hawks they are constantly antagonizing, I see them in a different light.

These birds of prey aren't ruthless killers. They're not concerned with their status as top avian predator or whether or no they make it onto the next flag or coin or become the new mascot of the elementary school you went to as a kid that had to change their name because languages evolve and you can't have a bunch of kids running around calling themselves the Highlands Hooters. 🦉 (True story. For 4th and 5th grade I was a Highlands Hooter and I curse myself for not having the foresight to save my school t-shirts.)

These guys aren't vain.

They're just trying to get a bite to eat.

_{ENTRY PHOTO!!⬆️}

Post Script: Judging by the feathers, I'm fairly certain the bird being consumed by the Red Tailed Hawk is a female American Robin. I truly do love all birds and don't like to see them hurt or killed, but I also understand that life consuming life is part of the rhythm and balance of nature. Everyone deserves a chance to thrive, be they hawks or eagles or falcons or hooters or tits or robins or crows. It would be unfair to pick sides, and unearthly to hate the hawk. That doesn't mean that I'm not rooting for the crows when they're having a good old-fashioned hawk hassling.

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We are Highlands Hooters
and we're all sharp shooters
We are Highlands Hooters.
We're the best.
We're the best!