Ornithology

Today I received a thank-you note from a colleague who has some serious cancer. I had donated a day of sick leave to her, but she was also grateful for the video filmed by my assistant principal of a few men (including me and the principal) singing a tailored version of “You Are My Sunshine” for her.

The video in part featured another colleague facing away from the camera and crawling back and forth on the piano while our Spanish teacher, formerly a professional percussionist (he’s played with Santana, even), and a science teacher on tuba accompanied our fresh-out-of-college chorus teacher on piano. At the end of the song, we singers began taking off our shirts. We’d forgotten to give full instructions to the assistant principal, who appeared not to be turning off the video camera, and so I think the video, which I have not seen, ends with us motioning to her, “Enough!” before too many buttons were undone.

So anyway, today I received the card. I was puzzled by the black and white drawing on its front, of a very dark, fearsome-looking bird. “A raven?” I thought. “Isn’t the raven a symbol of death?” I wasn’t sure if my colleague had an odd sense of humor or was hinting at her resignation to her illness.

When I got home, I showed M the card. “A raven?” she said. “I think it’s a hawk.”

Sure enough, on the back of the card was the artist’s note about his subject, a Harris hawk.