Notes from the Indiana Sand Dunes 



overlook an opportunity to rain down retribu- 

 tion on the heads that doubtless cause them 

 much anxiety at night. A red-tailed hawk 

 departed before me from the remains of a cot- 

 ton-tail, but a pellet convicted Bubo Virgin- 

 ianus. 



The morning of April 19th, I set out with 

 the intention of finding at least a crow's nest. 

 A dense growth of pine bordering some 

 swampy meadows offered promise. Red- 

 headed woodpeckers, their heads bobbing out 

 comically from behind sheltering; limbs, ut- 

 tered their rattling disapproval of my intrud- 

 ing presence. A junco that lighted on a 

 chosen tree drew forth the same call. At the 

 aj)pearance of a marsh hawk, the red-heads re- 

 peated their challenge, while the junco 

 dropped into a bush like a stone, and remained 

 as still until I began to doubt that I was re- 

 garding an animate object. Presently, a song 

 from a neighboring thicket brought it back to 



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