(Ed. Note: The writer is an associate professor of sociology at Adelphi University and a Woodbury resident. He likes having a schedule but only on alternate days of the week.

Art galleries schedule viewings, sometimes with a wine and cheese reception. Media studios schedule previews of films and museums schedule exhibitions. People sometimes schedule weddings a year or more in advance. Dentists schedule appointments and have receptionists call to remind you the day before, lest you chicken out. But birds don't offer viewing so that those of us dominated by schedules can see them at convenient times. That's why the sighting of a bird can be both exciting and inconvenient.

One day two weeks ago my schedule was built around a dental appointment. That day I decided to finish my daily exercise routine with a walk. I often bring binoculars on the grounds that birds never schedule viewings and you never know what will happen. I didn't take binoculars that day as I had a schedule to keep to and besides I hadn't seen much lately. I had seen the red-tailed hawks that nest on or near the Methodist churchyard on Woodbury Road only once this spring. More recently I saw one chased and harassed by crows with flared wing feathers. Most recently my birding consisted of having my sleep interrupted by an operatic mockingbird that joyously sang at all hours of the night.

Approaching the churchyard toward the end of my walk, I heard a loud high call that sounded like an old-fashioned train whistle. The only time I hear that sound is by the churchyard and invariably it is the sound of the red-tailed hawks. I took a few steps into the yard and the sound became a multi-voice symphony. Suddenly there it was; a brown form on a branch. If I hadn't heard the red-tail I never would have seen it. The hawk raised its wings as it walked a few feet to another part of the tree. It did this a few more times. I had forgotten how big and bulky red-tails are. Without warning another raptor flew from in back of me to a different tree. It had seen me while I had no idea that it was there. Spooky. The first one raised up and slowly with its red tail spread wide cleared the treetops and went out over the Greenbelt Trail. The second bird stayed in the tree a while not looking as if it were going anywhere just yet. Anxious for a better look I started the 6- or 7-minute walk home for binoculars.

With binoculars and tape recorder in hand I decided to commit my version of a mortal sin. In the interest of time, knowing the bird may not be there when I return, I take the car instead of walking. When I get back there's a loud call coming from the tree. Is that my hawk? No, it's a robin perched on a branch near the hawk. Doesn't this guy get it? He could become a meal for the hawk. I turn on my tape recorder to take notes and soon the tape runs out. Fortunately, I have a pad and pen in the car, not to mention a bottle of seltzer. The sun is in and the temperature comfortable. The next hour of my schedule is cancelled.

The hawk, stately and stolid, stares straight ahead. Its grey eyes blink and its head occasionally moves but is otherwise motionless. Its olive hooked beak and black talons on yellow feet tell you that this bird tears the flesh of its prey. One of the yellow feet looks like its forming an oval as if it were holding a silver dollar. Does it have a small mammal there that I can't see? Is it saving a meal? If not, it may wait there for a very long time doing nothing interesting. There is no mammal and no meal. The robin, however, is daring the devil. It flies quickly in an arch just in back of the hawk moving out to a branch. Opening its long yellow bill as it continuously calls out. The bird goes to a few more branches before flying off.

The mailman comes by. Now there's someone who knows about schedules. The hawk looks casually at the mailman as he leaves. This raptor has no mailbox to pour through and no e-mail to answer. After nearly 40 minutes the red-tail arches its wings back, leans forward and shudders quickly like a person coming out of a swimming pool. It take off flapping its big wings and disappears over the treetops. I like to say that birds don't pose. This bird had stayed out in clear view for so long that I could have gotten a full-bodied picture with a telephoto lens.

I'm relieved. The bird wasn't active so I wasn't missing much now that it had flown. I have plenty of time for the rest of my schedule. Above all, I enjoyed myself. You may wonder how I could watch a bird that was doing absolutely nothing and enjoy it. First, as soon as I found it, I had a legitimate reason to jettison part of my schedule. Second, part of the joy of birding is in the finding as well as the viewing. Oh, in case you're wondering, I kept my dental appointment. Feeling somewhat liberated from my experience I let a week pass before doing the nonessential chores on my schedule for that day.