It is an evening after an exceptionally sapping day, and I am home sipping a cup of tea. Wifey stares out of the window and says "There's an eagle in the yard". I peep and find a hawk. Given that I have not been able to bird much of late, even a hawk would do. I rush to the bedroom to pick my camera and she keeps egging me on, "Y'know, if you keep taking this much time it's gonna take off. It is lifting its butt. Now it is on the transformer. Make it fast!" I come out and lie down on the floor near the back door and crawl out, so I don't scare it off. Shit, I am wearing the brand new polo tee she had bought for me last week. I wince, but all she says is "Hurry up! It will take off now." I lie there on the ground wearing my office clothes, and shoot the first raptor at eye level in a year and half. Mugshots, headshots, the lot. Once I get back in wiping the dust off my shirt, she says "I need the credit for this shot". I reply with a smirk, "It is a hawk. Much smaller than eagles."