It's Saturday the morning of the start of the disc golf tournament. The players are gathering for the players meeting and the tournament is about to start. A player comes to me and says "Tom, there's a dead hawk on number seven." Linny and I grab our gloves and shovel and jump in a side by side. There are multiple wounds on the back and then once it fell to ground additional wounds on the chest. We bring the Coopers to the lodge for burial in our wildlife vs wildlife memorial. Linny digs the grave and we mark the spot, knowing it won't be the last time. There will be others.
On Sunday morning the ravens do not show up.
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