"Alright, next up, we have a hawk on a light pole in West Chicago. Close, Charles, grandson; Mitchell, Sara, daughter; and Lindon, Paris, uncle." A clock started counting down from ninety.
Charles, Sara, and Paris stood and walked up to the queue. They glanced at each other, none wanting to step on the others' toes.
"My daughter, what's she doing?"
"Driving. They're all driving."
"Oh. She wouldn't see it. I'll take it only if no one else wants it."
"Is my uncle...."
"He's on the phone."
The heavy man rubbed his bald pate and smiled. "Hawk?"
Forty seconds later, a young man drives down a road. It's been a rough day and he's grumbling under his breath, as much about the work he just left as the car driving too closely behind him. As he scans the road in front of him, he notices a large shadow on one of the light posts. He leans forward right before he passes under it, catching a glimpse of a large bird. The sight brings a smile to his eyes, and he eases his foot off the gas pedal, just slightly, feeling better already.
"Alright, next up we have a fawn standing in a pasture west of Elburn..."