There is a Hawk. I named him Cetan or Chetan. It is hard to decide. He lives in the badlands spotted with Cedars. I enjoy riding my horse there. After winter when I take my horse there I go along this straight strip of road and every year a Hawk comes flying from far in the South to greet me. He flies twelve feet above me and screams. I raise my hand, I kick my heels and sometimes I let out a loud “WHOOP!” and we go flying down that road. The Hawk racing us. Today I went out to the badlands with my dog. Not to ride horses but just to enjoy nature. I walked out a ways and talked to my dog, Not like he cared about my ramblings. All of the sudden I hear a scream. Frowning I raise my cupped hands to my mouth and reply. Using the whistle I use to call Chetan. I hear another scream and again I whistle. This goes on for a few minutes and at one point the scream isn’t returned for almost a full minute. I’m about to give up when this beautiful bird comes flying over a hill. I of course do what I always do when I see animals I consider beautiful and I stare in awe..Maybe with drool coming out my mouth. True to fashion this hawk comes down to about 12 feet and circles around me. I raise my arm in the traditional greeting and he flies off. That’s it. I don’t tell people about Chetan. People think that within this modern age you can’t have a relationship with anything not docile. People wouldn’t believe me about this random Hawk. People think nature is something wild and uncontrolled. They feel they have to control it.