That time of year.
I like seeing them over my fields, summer and fall, although I haven’t seen them as much lately. My father shot an immature one when I was a little kid. I still remember being fascinated looking at it on the counter. I can’t remember if it was before or after I became obsessed with birds. Dad had it mounted. I am not sure why. He wasn’t much into hunting, or nature, and I never thought to ask about it. In any case, it is on top of the gun case lord of all its surveys.
Steve had a red tail he described in A Rage for Falcons that he treasured. Cinnamon, as he called it, ended up being stolen. It bummed him out bad. It was a great hunting hawk with lots of drive. Jonathan Wilde had a good illustration of it hunting in the book.