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My father, the kestrel

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Great essay by Andrew Becker, "My great-grandfather the crow killer" (HCN, 3/1/04: My great-grandfather the crow killer). My father — a 40-year employee with the National Park Service — was known far and wide for his passion and skills in "birding" (bird-watching). Since his passing over a decade ago, I have often noticed him watching me from on high. He was the kestrel I spotted almost daily on my commute between Furnace Creek and Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley. He’s the peregrine that sometimes "follows me" when I take my lunchtime walk near Lake Powell in Page, Ariz. I couldn’t have wished for a better afterlife for my dad — to become what he loved so much. Thanks much for Andrew Becker’s wonderful words.

Marianne Karraker
Page, Arizona

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