![]() She flew free for the first time on fields outside the city and there she learned to hunt just like a wild hawk. Her first flying lessons were on college lawns. Small boys shouted “Harry Potter!” at us teen Goths eyed her with awe. Soon I was taking the hawk for long walks to accustom her to the bustle of human life. The intricate steps of her training were deeply distracting. The taming of my hawk began in darkened rooms, with our first measures of tentative trust earned by giving her raw steak to eat in my gloved left hand. It's made them an abiding, powerful symbol of wildness, and wildness was what I wanted. ![]() Humans have kept hawks for thousands of years, but unlike other animals with such a long history in human culture, they have never been domesticated. ![]() The hawk was everything I wanted to be: self-possessed, solitary, free from hurt and loss. ![]()
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