My father, the kestrel
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