For nearly two-straight morning commutes, not a single hawk. Two years of hawks every day, and then they disappear just as I'm on the cusp of a HUGE book deal. As I made the trek into Dinuba this morning, I found myself second-guessing nearly every life decision I've made, fighting back my emotions: Maybe I shouldn't have worn my wife's pink sweater today - was it scaring the birds away? And anyway, am I really cut out for taking mildly legible photos of a bird? Why hasn't this blog overtaken Facebook, yet? Needless to say, I was in a bad place.
As I contemplated my failure and early retirement, I was only a few blocks from my destination, and then I saw it...a hawk. Who cares that it was only the size of a large hummingbird? It was a bird that eats meat. And it was perched on a light post facing the opposite way. As it turned toward me, I snapped a photo through my windshield. I can't say for sure, but it looked like it had a defeated look on its face as it flew off.
Here's the proof. 
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