Yesterday my father drove us to Hawk Mountain in Pennsylvania. It is a mountain where one can look into the valley where hawks often fly. We saw a couple of hawks. I could not tell what kind of hawks they were, but they were probably sharp-shinned hawks as they are the most common kind seen there. Someone saw a bald eagle yesterday, but we did not.
There were about a half a dozen lookout points, collections of boulders piled on top of each other where you climb and look out over the valley or over the fields. The views were beautiful as in the picture above.
Michael and the girl came. We talked a little. About our worries. He does not like the lockdown and like me thinks it is insane. I did not wear a mask on the mountain, but I carried it on my arm in case anyone bothered me about it. That is also what I do when I walk around town.
We got to the mountain after two and by the time we were done it was almost night time. We had to walk over rocks through the woods and my mother was having trouble walking. Me and Michael took turns leading her. I was afraid we would not get back to the car before night time, but we barely made it. We were some of the last people to leave. It was a good trip.
No comments:
Post a Comment