Goodbye, Mr. Chipmunk

What a casual, mere glance out of the kitchen window toward the yard beyond the sunken deck, but upon the border of those two manipulations of man and nature did I see the most majestic bird--a great, grey falcon in classic pose standing with its head turned back over the shoulder, offering the silhouette of its downward-sloped, sharpened beak? It stood, enthroned upon its perch, portraying the melding hues of off-white, grey and blue, and raised its great, stretching wings like a king leaving his regal position to thrust by sheer power and grace into the air toward the south, past the towering, bulbous oak tree.

And in its talons I beheld with both horror and delight, the resident whom my fairy daughters had come to know and love as Mr. Chipmunk! His legs splayed out under those dagger-imbued feet lay helpless as our former friend awaited his fortuitous end. Goodbye, Mr. Chipmunk, and farewell, for by now your decimated, furry body has become the center of a great feast, and the falcon's cry screeches and calls out in regal victory, for he is the Lord of the sky and of all small, woolly creatures below. Goodbye Mr. Chipmunk--perhaps your kind and good home under our deck shall ensconce itself by the hearty nature of a new host, but I must bid you, in your ultimate demise, adieu.