Previous post
A quote: “Once you bring life into the world, you must protect it. We must protect it by changing the world.” ~~ Elie Wiesel
I’ll start with a story …
*************************************
I hear the warning bark and move to cover long before I catch a flash of light betraying the drone’s approach.
Duke is well trained to warn and take cover himself. I always rough up his coat so he looks feral, but why take chances? I am responsible for so many.
Two short notes on my whistle and it isn’t long before the drone is destroyed. My red-tailed hawk brings it down and disembowels it. Satisfied, she flies to me for her reward.
The drones get fewer as the months gather into years. We are patient. One day, they’ll stop.
*************************************
Now, it’s your turn.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license.
Navig8r says: Dang! The rabbits are getting skittish, and I had spent ten minutes working my way into slingshot distance of this one. We still have firearms and plenty of ammo, but we hunt with slingshots so we don’t attract attention. It’s frustrating, but the hawks are good to have around. Mostly they keep the rats and mice down so they aren’t eating our grain. We aren’t down to eating rats and mice (yet), so mostly we don’t regard the hawks as competition. Oh, well. There are other rabbits. Maybe I’ll check the woods. Squirrel would be good for dinner tonight.
Cameron says: It did not matter to the bureaucrat that my family had been falconers for four generations and had rehabbed countless birds. What mattered was that not enough minorities were falconers and that was going to change right now.
I was the last one they came to. My parents had set their birds free but I had other ideas. The busybody demanded that I surrender my bird. I slid the hood off and looked at the man. “Go see,” I whispered.
The man screamed as the hawk slashed at his face. “Sorry about that,” I said cheerfully. “She doesn’t like strangers.”
Reggie Waite studied the unit patch design. The red-tailed hawk was recognizable but not excessively detailed to be worked in embroidery thread. It brought back Scout trips up into the woods of New Hampshire, a very different land and wildlife from suburban Salem.
And it was fitting for what this new group would be doing. After the Kitty Hawk Massacre, there could be no question about the Administration’s attitude toward the embarrassing reminders of certain Cold War black-budget projects that it was now sending up here.
But this was his settlement, his people — and now that these Expulsees were being added to the population, he would remake Shepardsport such that they too would not only survive, but thrive. Which meant protecting them not only from the merely physical threats of the unforgiving lunar environment just beyond these walls. There were other, more subtle threats, and he must make the necessary preparations.
Dupin says: He spotted something. I do hope it’s a bunny. Bunnies are yummy. Better than squirrels or rats, though a rattlesnake would be tasty. I sewed pelts into a blanket, but a snakeskin belt would be nice.
Life’s gooder since he landed on my shoulder, even if his talons made me bleed. I padded it and found a leather glove. He brings food and we share. I builded him a perch outside my cave…he’s never laid eggs, so he’s a he…where I hid since Daddy told me to run before the gunshots. World’s gone to hell, Daddy said, but I’m fine.
4 Comments