12/15/2025
This happened today⌠and Iâm still thinking about it.
While working, I suddenly heard a bird screeching â loud, frantic, full of panic.
Iâm usually very good at identifying bird calls, but this one stopped me. I couldnât place it.
So I started scanning the area, trying to locate the sound.
Thatâs when I saw it.
Out from beneath an oak tree, a large bird dropped to the ground. As I focused, I realized it was a hawk â wings fully spread, body completely covering a blue jay.
The blue jay was the one screaming.
What struck me immediately was that this didnât look like a normal hunt.
Iâve watched hawks hunt many times. Usually itâs fast â a hard strike, prey stunned or killed almost instantly, a few bites, then the hawk lifts off to a perch or nest.
This wasnât that.
The hawk stayed grounded, holding the blue jay down, slowly pulling feathers. The noise continued. It went on far longer than I was comfortable watching.
Then something else happened.
Twice â on two separate occasions â a brown rabbit darted out from the brush and rushed toward the hawk, almost as if trying to distract it or intervene.
Each time, the hawk struck outward in the rabbitâs direction, forcing it back â then returned its attention to the blue jay.
The rabbits couldnât help.
They tried anyway.
After four or five minutes, I began walking toward the scene. As soon as the hawk noticed me, it struck the blue jay one final time. The noise stopped. The hawk immediately took flight and disappeared.
I stood there for a moment, unsettled.
Later, as I thought about it, this is what came to mind â and Iâll be honest, this is interpretation, not certainty.
Iâve seen blue jays relentlessly harass hawks before, especially near their nests. Anyone whoâs watched this knows how aggressive blue jays can be â dive-bombing, screeching, hitting the hawk from every angle until it leaves.
They donât quit.
Itâs possible this hawk had endured that harassment before. It was likely near a nest â probably there for eggs or chicks â and this time, when the opportunity came, it didnât retreat.
Not out of malice.
Not out of revenge.
But out of response.
Nature doesnât react emotionally.
It responds intelligently.
What I witnessed didnât feel cruel â it felt precise. Uncomfortable, yes. But aligned.
And it reminded me how often we project human emotion onto natural events instead of seeing them for what they are: cause and effect playing out within Godâs perfect design.
Sometimes the lesson isnât gentle.
Sometimes balance is restored in ways that challenge us to look deeper.
I didnât leave that moment feeling afraid.
I left feeling humbled.
Nature is always teaching â if weâre willing to pay attention.
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Journal Prompt đż
The next time something in nature catches your attention â especially if it makes you uncomfortable â pause and write:
What did I actually observe (without judgment)?
What patterns or cause-and-effect do I recognize?
Where in my own life might balance be trying to restore itself?
What is this moment inviting me to notice, adjust, or respect?
Sometimes the lesson isnât gentle.
Itâs precise.
This is the kind of reflection the Nature Signs Journal was created for â not to assign meaning, but to build awareness.
