Pleasure, I am going to add the first of many pics now - under the heading "Leaving the city behind" - first group is Aloe striata in the field.

Dearest Barry, you are free. After 363 days in captivity your interrupted life continues as it should. Wild and free. While here you blessed us with your strength to survive and overcome the many obstacles that were the result of your car accident and a tail loss. You blessed us with your beauty and your beautiful songs. You blessed us with nightcrawlers crawling outside your enclosure too. May God bless you now so you may continue your life healthy and joyous as you find a Mrs. and bless future generations with Barrylettes. Surely when you are asleep you will at times dream of Olive, the parrot. She was quite enchanted with you. And should you ever have a disagreement with your future Mrs., you can close your eyes and smile as you hear the voice of your big green girlfriend telling you: "HiiiiiIIIIIIIiiiiii Sweetheart! OoooooooOOOOOOOOooooooooo! Pretty Boy! *kisses*" ... Stay safe Barry. Please look both ways before crossing the street. Watch out for hawks and those who would do you harm. Enjoy the sunshine and your home without boundaries. God speed and thank you Barry. And so the doors to the aviary were opened this day and after several minutes Barry realized he was free to leave. He walked to the open door and looked around. He paced back and forth just inside the doorway. He started the familiar Robin chirping and 8 Robins appeared from no where running across the lawn toward the sound of Barry's voice. Barry ran down the two steps, across the patio and took flight 363 days after the accident into the air and landed in the Russian Olive Tree and began to sing. He then quickly flew back down and 4 Robins ran to greet him and they all began to chatter. Seems like he may already be familiar with them, since he had full view of the front and back garden and they could converse through the windows. Barry ran across the lawn, picking at the ground and no doubt savoring the cold dew on his feet. He may already have a girlfriend because one was following him in the grass! He is not banded or tagged in any way. We will never know which Robin is Barry. That is a secret only known to a wild bird we once met. His name was Barry.

First, the hawks flying around aren't after anyone's dog. They want to eat mice, voles, or small birds. It's not a concern. The bird under bush didn't "go there to die." It went there for protection, and because it could no longer fly. Hawks dont'go to someplace to die. They try to stay alive as safely as they can. When you can't fly, you have few alternatives to go to except under a protective bush (if you're a hawk). Most hawks die in their first year. Only one out of five (on average) is able to make it through the first winter. That's normal. Nature produces a lot more hawk offspring than can possible survive. Only the best do, and this specimen, sadly, was one that didn't make it. If the birds seen flying "around the neighborhood" are dashing through the trees, you have Cooper's hawks, searching for a feeder-drawn dickey bird for lunch. If the birds are large and circling above, they are probably red-tails.

Look like a young Red-tailed Hawk to me. Luc