The trees in the freeway median loom large; silhouettes against the winter sky.
High in the branches a hawk sits, his eyes trained on the ground below. Trees flash by and there sits another silent watcher, his shoulders hunched in concentration.
I am amazed by their vision and focus. It's a long way to the grassy base of the tree. Traffic is roaring on all sides, but the hawks hunt on with unwavering gaze. Such a metaphor for success.
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