My husband and I are regulars at Lake Martin where there’s a rookery and wildlife refuge. As we were going down the gravel road that borders the lake, I noticed some fuzzy ducklings in the tall weeds at the shoreline so we stopped to get a few pictures of them. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hawk dipped down, scooped up one of the ducklings in its talons, and made his way across open water when he suddenly lost hold and the duckling fell. Unhurt, it sped to join its five siblings. The hawk was undaunted, however, and approached a second time, but seeing us nearby, it got distracted and flew away, but not before I got a shot of it, hiding in the shadows and looking back towards me. At that point, I got out of the vehicle and joined the ducklings at the shore where they were preening and bathing and enjoying their newfound safety after the close encounter. They seemed to be totally unafraid of me and let me click away. It was a joy to watch them in all their fuzzy glory and to give thanks that at least for the time being, they were all safe.