I am in a grassy neighborhood. I see a harris hawk in the trees near me. I move my head around to make sure that’s what it really is. There are many branches blocking it. There is a middle-aged man standing near me. He looks like the type of nature lover who likes to kill things in nature, dressed very redneck. I walk away, but he calls me back over. He says the hawk is dying. I ask if he shot the bird. He says, “No.”
I walk back over. The hawk is standing near us, then laying on the ground. We both would like some feathers. If he has died of natural causes I will take a couple. A woman and her daughter walk by. I hold my hand over the bird to see if it is okay to take feathers. He says no. I look at his chest and see he’s been shot with a bb gun. I guess the man didn’t think that a bb counted as really shooting the bird.