Ever since the rains returned, coyotes sightings here at the little cottage have become scarce. We'll hear them at night, far away and in the hills, but the canid highway behind the house has gone quiet.

Instead the hawks are back, hunting, gliding and, when luck is with us, perched and patient as the mere humans on the ground aim cameras and rudely click-click-click away.

Up in the Santa Monica mountains last week, near one of the dogs' favorite trails:

...a hawk was back in the sycamore.

A couple of profile shots:

And, when the wind kicked up, a bit of protective floofing. (Yes, that's a technical term.)