Dorothy Horne 2024

I used to make New Year’s resolutions faithfully, but I will admit I got out of the habit these past few years.

It started after some of our lives were turned upside down by the COVID epidemic. Perhaps some of us are still somewhat in the middle of a great exhale after having a portion of our lives being structured around COVID. Those several years were a particularly lonely time for me since I had become a widow in 2018.

But I know now that we probably all appreciate so many more of the little things we had always taken for granted before COVID, like not having to wear a mask and being able to see family and friends on a regular basis.

As always, there was grace to be found through the COVID season too, as is God’s way. One of the places I found His grace was on the Boorman Trail in Longview. It came in the form of a red-tailed hawk that, for whatever reason, took an interest in me. He became my new “best friend” during COVID. Who would ever have guessed that a hawk could become an instrument of God’s grace?

The first time I saw “my hawk” (as others on the Boorman Trail also came to refer to him as the year went by), he was sitting on a low branch in a tree, right beside the trail. I stopped and talked to him in a high-pitched voice (like you do with babies) and took a picture of him.

I did that with many of the birds on the trail. But this one was different. After the picture, he flew a few trees down the path and waited for me. (Yes, he really did.) We did this “game” with multiple trees and taking photos for at least 30 minutes, slowly making our way down the trail and repeating the scenario every few yards. It was fascinating. I don’t recall there being any other people on the trail during that time. Maybe that’s why my hawk was so interactive.

Finally, when we got near the end of the trail, he gave me a loud squawk and flew back down the trail the other way. It may sound crazy, but we bonded during those 30 minutes. During the following days, weeks and months, and even the next year or two, he would sometimes show up, usually when I was at the big open field about five minutes from the dog park.

He seemed to like to hang out there, especially for that first year. When I got close to it, I would start calling, “Hey, Hawk!” There were several times he responded to my voice (at least seemed to) and flew over closer to me. The last time I saw him, (about two years ago, maybe?), he flew down within a few yards from me, landed on the grass, and let me walk up within a few feet of him and talk.

I don’t know if he was wondering if I was going to feed him, or if he was just curious about this weird person who still talked to him. Or, who knows, maybe he was trying to evaluate whether or not he could actually carry me off for dinner! (I did stop before I got too close to him, just in case!)

Since then, I still occasionally call out to him when I’m in that area of the trail, hoping he will hear me. (I read that red-tailed hawks can live for about 20 years or longer, so hopefully he’s still around somewhere!) A number of people on the trail still ask me if I’ve seen “my hawk” lately.

I miss him — one of God’s creatures that “ministered” to me during a hard time!