Craning my neck at Oak Point

I was more like owling or hawking my neck at the Oak Point Nature Preserve, walking the Barred Owl Bypass Trail.   At four-thirty looking up into the trees and squinting straight at the setting sun, I couldn't see the birds.  I could hear their raucous calls that seemed evenly spaced and usually preceded flights.  What were these large birds with striped underwings and tails?  When they flew, they were always beyond my camera range and slow reaction time.  The one time I got a clear view of a bird sitting on a branch way up, the bird looked reddish-brown. 

I have to laugh because a friend has been complaining about the music her teens enjoy.  There was something very immature and teenage in the calls of these birds.  This flower was more in my range, caught in a shaft of sunlight through the trees.

© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder