An incessant cacophony of alarm calls broke the early morning silence, so I moved to discover the source and cause of the brouhaha.
A riot of robins were flitting nervously among the branches of a large 150-year-old juniper tree, joined by a smattering of less vocal smaller songbirds.
Three squirrels scolded from the uppermost branches, venturing carefully downward only to repeatedly reverse course.
I had still not seen the cause of all the fear and loathing. Then, moving carefully to my right, the interloper came into view.
This went on for quite some time, with no resolution—the noisy attackers venturing close, then retreating;
the immature Cooper’s hawk eyeing them but unimpressed by their bravado.
So I took a 20 minute break to photograph another subject.
Upon my return, it was quickly apparent that one robin had been a little too brave. In trying to repulse the predator, it had become the victim, and now the meal.
Such are the risks when confronting an ambush hunter like an accipiter.