All week we have watched for a young hawk to fly into the cypress tree. We have listened for the plaintive begging of hungry youngsters. But all is still and quiet. The little hawks are gone.

In years past, the fledglings have disbursed around the first of august, and it is earlier this year. Indeed the whole season has been earlier by about ten days. And so it is time... the flight feathers of the young birds are fully grown and hard-penned. In fact, these feathers are slightly longer than those of a mature adult, to give them an "edge."

In my mind's eye, I imagine the youngsters sitting together and "discussing" the situation. "The pickings are slim near the cypress and nest trees; Mom and Dad go somewhere far off to hunt now; we could hunt better alone than in pairs; we need to stop this whining, because it frightens off the prey. We can do it! Let's go!"