Duck Hawking: the Art of Falconry

The hawk feels like a bundle of nerves, head snapping this way and that, muscles contracting with the sound of each snapping twig. At such times, I sense her energy flowing into my hand, up my arm and into my core. engulfed in the moment, I am no longer an onlooker; I become a predator - the hawk and I hunting as one. When at last a duck suddenly erupts from cover, my body responds with a burst of adrenaline as the hawk explodes of my fist. In that instant, my heart leaps and my spirit flie...