The Hawk and the Crows

I took a walk around HP on Friday. It was a cool and clear day, and I found myself in a bit of a philosophical mood. Now, those of you who know me will attest that I am generally not exactly Thoreau walking around Walden Pond. I tend to be more along the lines of the "Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" droners who prize efficiency and results over introspection...

But on this particular walk, I noticed something cool. A hawk, somewhat like this one, was perched on top of a light pole. He was sitting unruffled, serene, and beautiful.

Meanwhile, three big, ugly nasty crows were squaking noisily and orbitting him like fighter planes in formation. They circled and shrilled, and every so often, would dive bomb down like a Kamikaze Zero at the hawk, who stayed stony and unmoved despite all their bluster.

I stopped walking and just watched it unfold above me. The crows came closer and closer, and cawed louder and louder. I thought for sure one of them was just going to nail this hawk, and he would get pissed off and whack one of them. (Though the crows were big, the hawk was clearly the stronger bird.)

Finally, after a few more passes, the hawk unfurled his beautiful wings and flapped off to another perch, hopefully which would not be guarded by such fiercely territorial residents.

But the encounter really got me thinking... Who should we view as the winner here? The crows who won their perch back, or the hawk who proved his mettle by standing his ground a lot longer than I would? I would tend to think that the crows won, though in an ugly fashion, and the hawk lost, though proved graceful.

And if I were one of these actors, who would I want to be? The ugly winner or the graceful loser? Is it better to suceed at all costs, or to accept your defeat if it means doing it with "class." That I have been pondering since then... I do wonder what you think?