It seemed symbolic, though maybe it was just a coincidence: A hawk arrived, gliding on the air currents with its wings spread. It perched itself on a high bough of a tree, surveying the scene below: Hundreds of family and friends attending the Franklin & Marshall College graduation ceremonies. He sat for several minutes and I watched him watching us. Then he turned, flapped his wings and flew off out over the stage in the direction from which he came.

Shortly after that, Richard Haass, the director of the Council on Foreign Relations, gave his commencement address after receiving his honorary degree. "I hope you don't come to regret my selection as your commencement speaker," he said after a few opening remarks, "because my address today will be anything but lighthearted. I choose to do this because we live in difficult times."

One mother behind us expressed her displeasure early, wishing he'd finish talking about the wars in Iraq, Afghanistan and "worldwide -- the war on terrorism" and allow them to get to calling the names of the 400 or so graduates. Before long, I couldn't listen anymore about noble war efforts, so I pulled out my cell phone and called the Notre Dame sports hotline to find out the baseball team swept a doubleheader from Rutgers yesterday and, coupled with Pittsburgh's loss to Connecticut, had taken over sole possession of first place in the Big East.

I looked up into the tree again, wishing the hawk would come back so I could watch something else. He droned on, finally, eventually coming to a conclusion, calling on the graduates to go out into the world and help in the war on terror in any number of ways, including various occupations that were not the military. I noticed he didn't mention journalism, hoping some of the graduates would go out and report on all the injustices and the threats to liberty in the world.

When it was over, as the applause faded, I turned to Casey and said, "I'm George W. Bush, and I approve this message." I couldn't help but think that this commencement address was just another effort to push the White House agenda.

Later, as the graduates ascended the steps onto the stage and handed their cards with their names on them to the member of the faculty who announced them to the crowd, the hawk returned, with a friend. The two circled above campus, off in the distance a little, out over a building, or perhaps past it, over another open space.

Though I realized how melodramatic it was, I could not shake the symbolism of the hawks' appearance as a commencement address became an opportunity for another warhawk to defend the war. Excuse me, the wars.

Otherwise, it was a fantastic 26 hours in Lancaster. We drank from the time we arrived Saturday afternoon until midnight, first at a luncheon at Tessa's house, then at dinner and later at a bar. After the ceremonies today, we had one last trip to the sandwich shop for the best between-bread combinations I've ever tasted. And the fries are top-notch too.

Three hours later, we were home, the road kind to us again. I've grown to love the stretch of 222 from Allentown down to Lancaster, particularly the parts that roll over the hills and through the small towns, the houses mere feet from the road that used to be a dirt track, perhaps with a little more of a buffer between the traffic and the front door.

It may be the last graduation I attend in a while. Jess will have her grad school commencement next year, but undergrad is a different feeling. I thought of Notre Dame today, where another class finished its four years. I thought of Jess's three years ago, when the president spoke. I thought of my own, six years now, and how there are some parts of that day, that week, that time I'd live over and over again, no question.

But I've had some great times since, and like a new graduate, I anticipate those to come.