At around the eighteen mile mark of what ended up a 22 mile ride, I was cruising along in a meditative, eyes-ahead state of relaxed tunnel vision on a recently paved road when, out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. My immediate interpretation of the motion was "newspaper blowing in gusty wind."
It was a gusty day after all, a blustery sun & cloud afternoon, a classic Sunday in early October New England.
But it wasn't a newspaper.
The moment unfolded rapidly. From the instant I noticed the movement, to the synapse firing in my brain that immediately tried to decipher the movement, to the point at which I actually realized what was happening and responded, was nearly instantaneous.
The newspaper was actually a hawk on the sidewalk (later I supposed it had made a play for a local squirrel or perhaps a house sparrow, flocks of which cavort in the hedges and the lot edges of neighborhoods all over Woo City). It was trying to take off, and the movement I saw as I was nearly abreast of it was it hopping & flapping to get some lift-off. By the point at which I realized with crystal clarity what was really happening, I had already instinctively reacted and ducked.
The hawk lofted into flight with a mighty lunge and barely missed my hunched shoulder as I raced past. Less than a second of reaction time separated cyclist-knocked-to-pavement-by-raptor and
holy-shit-near-collision-with-hawk. We both got away with our dignity.
Parting Shot
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| Kendall Reservoir, Holden, MA October 4, 2015 |
