I'd see my friend Rapture about once or twice a week, usually perched on the highest point available in the immediate area or watch him soar scanning the fields for a tasty snack.  On two occasions I even saw him in a full dive, pick up his prey, climb high and let it drop to it's death. That hawk was a large part of the scenery for me, as most of what surrounds me are ticky tacky homes and farmers fields. He provided a welcomed blip in the screen as I drove along the long straight roads that lead to my cookie cutter home.


On one occasion he even  came to my home for dinner, unannounced of course. When I got out of my vehicle he had already helped himself to a baby bunny that had sheltered itself under my front steps.  Rapture was not one to share, and he quickly flew up onto my roof with all servings of dinner that night. Not a very good dinner guest, the children were appalled at his behaviour and cried for little Stew the Rabbit. 

I am sad to report that while driving to work this morning, I saw my old friend of at least ten years completely trashed by what looked like a hit and run. Body twisted, head no where in sight, one busted wing, the other pointed skyward as if  waving goodbye or perhaps his way, his only way, of giving the finger to the fucker that killed him. 

Goodbye Rapture I'll celebrate your life with a little rabbit Stew.