Breakfast

It was rather interesting to watch a hawk eat his breakfast while I ate my own. Apparently, he'd just caught a dove at the bird feeder and was plucking it apart it with great relish. Blood, feathers, everywhere. I could even see the contents of the victim's last meal: millet seeds. After looking rather annoyed at my impolite gawking, the hawk grasped the remainder of his meal into his talons and flew off; presumably towards a more private dining location.