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This Morning Outsideby Diane PorterJanuary 12, 2011 As I stepped out the front door, I heard small birds squeaking in the thick yews next to my feet. A sharp-shinned hawk flew out of the yews and skimmed the ground away toward the woods. The sparrows it had been hunting dashed off toward other woods in the opposite direction.
The sparrows had been trying to stay hidden. I'd spoiled the hawk's hunt, and I'd startled everybody. Including myself. —Diane Porter
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