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I had just reached the bottom of my drive when a Shrike flew past me carrying prey in it's feet.

It landed in a willow shrub, transferred the small mammal to it's bill, and secured it somehow among the branches. It then groomed for a few moments before starting to feed on the firmly held prey with it's bill. I watched it for a few moments and then continued on my walk. When I returned, the Shrike had gone and I examined what turned out to be some kind of mole, I believe, finding that it was skewered on the broken end of a branch.

George Lisi, Woodbury, Vt.