by theuglyearring

The rooster frantically gathered the gang of hens, wrangling them up toward the backyard pasture.

Sitting on the wooden fence, a hawk watched and waited for the opportune moment to strike. It never arrived. The black rooster had successfully ushered the hens to safety.

Afterward, the hawk, perhaps more curious and contemplative than hungry, spread out its wings and flew away – up into the old pine tree across the street.

An old folklore:

If a hawk is flying above, throw a horseshoe into the fire and leave it there until hot; and the bird’s claws will become so clinched that it will be unable to capture your chickens.