The Nighthawk

I suppose it’s a small blip in the bigger cacophony of what swirls around me today.  Need I remind anyone about Covid-19 or the protests turning violent and criminal in cities across America?

But there is something disturbing about spotting the first returned nighthawk of the season smashed flat on the gravel road leading to my house.

The nighthawks often land on the open gravel near the center of country roads to rest during the half-dark or fully dark hours.  Automobiles sometimes race overtop the birds before they are able lift.

Nighthawks are the last of the migrating birds to reach my prairie as spring turns to summer.  They have the longest migration routes of any North American bird. They winter in South America and travel over land through Mexico and Central America to reach me.

Their numbers have been on decline for years.

I stopped and removed the dead bird from the roadway.

—Mitchell Hegman