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Walking in a warm rain at twilight recently, I saw little more than a silhouette careening through the dying light in the sky. Because of the size, I thought at first it was a small hawk.
However, the flight pattern was all wrong, and the wing outline was, too. The wings formed a crescent and, when the bird finally swooped over my head, I saw at last the white bars on the wings, which clinched the identification: a Nighthawk. I could hardly believe my eyes.
After all these years of being away from the Northern Plains and pretty much leaving that life behind, I suddenly felt the two worlds were joined in the flight of this lovely bird.
More than 20 years ago. I joined up with a graphic artist in Wyoming and opened a studio that offered photography, graphics and writing to advertising and other clients. Since my partner and I were both night creatures and offered quick turnaround, often working all night, we wanted a name that would put that message across and also root us in Wyoming.
I came up with “Nighthawk" because of the double meaning it had there. It was the species of bird that I became particularly fond of while living oh the Northern Plains. Flocks of these birds, looking like large swallow's, would part in waves before car headlights at dusk on dusty country roads as the
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