If a raptor can have a guilty look, it was in the eyes of the adult
Goshawk that rounded the corner of the house (behind which are the
feeders) and discovered me hauling some barn buckets in the day-long
snowfall. Flew by me with some awkward flaps then sprinted low in the
blowing snows through the orchard, across a pasture, disappearing into
the snowy shadows of the woods beyond.
This late afternoon.