Yesterday, while walking through the forest near my cabin, I watched a hawk fold in midair and drop into a nearby fir tree, vanishing among the thick bows. A great commotion followed. I heard robins calling frantically from the tree. A few moments later, the hawk flapped skyward again, a fledgling robin clutched in its talons. An adult robin chased after the hawk, crying.
The birds soon melted back into the mountains around me. Nothing left but the sound of a breeze sifting through the pines and purple lupine nodding against the green grass below.
I walked on, a bit saddened.
Just the same, I am not here to judge hawks.