July 18, 2000: But John said I was a white-eye

The hawk stood on the ground, not in a tree but in the grassy area of the exposed Georgia clay. We met eye to eye—I was shocked only to become distraught. How and why? I wish someone would explain to me that this happens to everyone! Tell me that I’m not special and this connection to the hawk is in my head! Tell me that this bird thing is a total prefabricated creation as designed by my imagination!