Sharp Shinned Hawks and Other Distractions

The other day I was walking the dog in one of our usual places, which is very wooded, but rather contained -- in fact, it reminds me of what it might be like in an area set aside for "the hunt" in medieval times -- it's wild but it's tame.  

You know you're going to run into some deer (inevitable) and possibly other creatures, but also other people, usually mountain bikers (okay, that ruins the medieval image right there) and sometimes other folks with their dogs.    

 It was quiet that morning and so we went pretty far back into the woods (knowing it's got a boundary -- this is a park, owned by the state, that was once someone's estate, complete with ugly mansion on one end, paved pathway with women in jogging suits around the perimeter, and of course, a holiday light extravaganza you can drive through for $18 while you listen to "the Twelve Days of Christmas" on your car radio.)    

I can't describe the way the forest has a medieval cast to it -- maybe I'll get some images -- but that day, I was thinking about how much it reminded me of tapestry scenes and all of a sudden I saw this bird sitting on a fallen tree.  It was very low to the ground, so clearly we had stumbled upon it when it was after prey -- perhaps having just missed.  It sat and looked at me for a bit, not really disturbed by the dog, who was too busy sorting out other smells to see it.  And then it flew away, low and silent across the top of the undergrowth.

I see a lot of red tailed hawks where we live.   I used to hear an owl outside our window when we first moved here, but it's been quiet the last year or so -- the other night we were outside at dusk and there was a huge great horned owl in the neighbor's tree, the first time I've ever seen one that big out in the world.   The  red tailed hawks nest right near by -- but this bird in the woods was so sleek and elegant, it reminded me of the falcons used in medieval times.  Probably didn't hurt that I've been reading parts of the Sword in the Stone out loud to Esme.   We stopped, though -- it's one of those books that I think I remember being better than it really was.    

What, you ask, does any of this have to do with being a medieval serf?   Because for the last half hour, I've been surfing (not serfing, mind you) the web looking for images and information so I could figure out if the bird was a kestral or a hawk.  (Sharp shinned hawk, I think, from the web-based evidence.)    What compels us to spend our time searching for information, for answers to questions no one else really cares about?  Why is knowledge so important in our lives, even if we're not going to share it with anyone?

Especially right now, this seems silly -- I have work to do!  I've got maybe half an hour or so left to write while Esme is deeply invested in a game with the neighbor's children and it's Friday so it's not bed time yet.  Zoe and her dad went to services, since her bat mitzvah is soon and some of us need to look like participating in our religious community matters to us...   So I'm supposed to be writing, which I enjoy, but I am in the middle of two projects that are reaching the horribly annoying stage.  One is a freelance job, which, in case you don't know, is one of the very modern versions of migrant labor. What serfdom has morphed into in contemporary times.    I am writing curriculum for an online AP high school course and at every step of the way, my teacherly instincts are being thwarted in favor of cool interactive web based games.  Students need visual guides and lots of hand holding or else they don't read, claims the director.   I also need to churn out about twenty of these in the next week, which is a pretty brutal pace, if you ask me.    I have been complaining  a lot about the project, but it is paying the bills for the bat mitzvah, so I can't make too big a deal out of it, right?  

The other are cover letters for academic jobs, the procurement of which would free me from the particular bondage of freelancing.  Of course, I am in that state because the delicious freedoms that are supposed to be part of the academic life are, for me at least, elusive and not all they're cracked up to be.   Still, it beats flipping burgers, as my friend reminds me.  Does it?  Does it really?   At this point, I think, it'd be best if someone gave me the job and then I can make an educated and empirical evaluation of the options.  Sound good?  Good.  So let me know if you have any ability to make that happen.

In the meantime, I'm going to sit here and think about my hawk a bit longer.