Hawks-A-Plenty

I haven't posted in the past month not for want of bird action to share, but for too much to choose from. Amid new lifers, birding travel, and new species in the backyard, though, one constant has remained my companion - the backyard hawks.

Both sharp-shinned hawks and Cooper's hawks regularly visit this neighborhood, and both have found the bounty of my backyard feeders. The larger, more taciturn Cooper's hawk will stake out a spot in the yard and sit for long periods, hoping for prey to come inquisitively, incautiously, close. The sharp-shinned hawks, and I do have more than one, are less patient and will move from fence, to tree, to feeder looking for the best vantage point for dinner. I've even seen them dive into the bushes while hunting, but the bushes are thick enough to deny them dinner.

A lot of birders prefer to shoo away hawks to safeguard their more colorful, friendlier backyard birds, but I feel much the opposite. Raptors, even small urban hawks, will not visit a yard that is not a thriving environment for birds - otherwise, they'd have no prey to find. I'm always delighted to see them visit, and in the past week I've seen a pair of courting sharp-shinned hawks in my willow tree, so it's likely I'll be seeing much more of them in the weeks to come.

I hope so.

Daily Diner

For the past few days, between 3 and 5 p.m., I've had a new guest for dinner - a sharp-shinned hawk. He's tried different tables in the backyard, first on the fence, then on the feeder stump, and today in the hawthorn tree, but never seems to have luck choosing what he wants from the menu. On the first day dinner very nearly came to him as after ten minutes of waiting for the server, a Eurasian collared-dove sought to land at the same table but quickly realized that if he did, he'd likely be an appetizer. The hawk seemed surprised at that level of service, but quickly opted for take-out as the dove flew away and he pursued. Thus far, the hawk hasn't gotten any appetizers, entrees, or desserts, but it's not for lack of trying nor for lack of watchfulness.

A lot of backyard birders prefer not to have hawks dine in their yard, but I enjoy the close encounters I get with these winged predators. Only when you have a yard that is rich in birds will you get hawks, because they don't tend to stake out areas where the pickings are slim. Unlike many human predators, hawks don't hunt for sport nor do they waste any of the prey they do catch, and many of their hunts go unfulfilled with hungry bellies to follow. I always feel privileged when one of these birds graces any part of my yard, and it's a thrill to have them as daily dinner guests. I'm sure my house finches, house sparrows, and other backyard birds would disagree, but it's all about finding balance in your life and in your feeders. All the birds, no matter what - or who - they may eat, are welcome at my backyard buffet.

Do you want to protect your backyard birds from hawks? Try these tips!

60 Degree Freeze

While I haven't been out for much dedicated birding in recent weeks (migration is over and the work schedule is crippling), my husband and I did manage a casual walk at Skipper Bay near Utah Lake a few days ago. As the sun was setting and light draining from the sky, the birding wasn't phenomenal - a northern flicker, small flocks of red-winged blackbirds, a great blue heron on the osprey's now vacant nesting tower. Then in a flash of feathers and a dart through the trees, the action picked up in a lovely wild kingdom moment.

Far more agile than you could believe until you've witnessed it, a sharp-shinned hawk darted through the thick, brushy trees on the west of the path. We saw it perched a few moments later, then flying off toward the south. We thought it had ventured elsewhere in search of a meal until it burst back out of the brush and swooped toward an unwary covey of California quail just on the edge of the path. The quail scattered and the hawk, certainly disgruntled, flew on. We were thrilled to see this just a dozen yards in front of us, but it wasn't until we got to the site of the attack that it was most thrilling.

Still frozen on the side of the trail were two of the quail, both males, sitting utterly still just a scant five feet away. So perfectly were they still that you could scarcely tell they hadn't been victims of the hawk until one blinked. They were crouched low near rocks, and didn't even turn their heads as we approached, then paused to watch them. It wasn't until after I'd taken a few photos and we began to move again that the birds flushed.

Bird camouflage is amazing. Many game birds may seem to have bold plumage when you see them in the open, but when they are still and silent, those same bold markings break up their silhouettes and help them become invisible. A birder can feel even more triumphant for such a sighting, because not only does it bring one a great look at a bird, but often far closer than you can imagine.

Wilder Kingdom

The past few days have been exciting ones. While absently watching the American goldfinches feeding as I walked across the room, I was startled when one of them flew up and swiped the window. At first I thought the bird was merely agitated -- the pine siskins have been getting more and more aggressively lately -- but as it swirled away I realized it was panicked, and with good reason. A flash of red tail and razor sharp wings burst past the feeder, and I thought Spook had again come to visit. Still, while he's no longer strictly a juvenile sharp shinned hawk, he's not quite as adept as he'd undoubtedly wish to be, and the attack was unsuccessful. I went about my business and the birds went about theirs, eventually returning for their late afternoon feed.

At dinner that evening less than an hour later -- my place at the table faces the patio door -- I smiled indulgently while a house finch fluttered toward the one small tree we have. Within seconds, however, my indulgent smile became an open-mouthed gasp as that red tailed fiend again dove, apparently from the roof of the house, perhaps from the aerial antenna we've never bothered to remove. The attack was vicious, with a very determined bird of prey and a hapless finch who managed, how I haven't a clue, to escape despite being terrorized within the branches of larger neighboring trees before his pursuer flew to a nearby electrical pole. The pace of the attack, the agility of the attacker, and the burst of red, white, and grayish blue plumage immediately had me suspicious -- this wasn't Spook. Only a brief observation through my field binoculars was necessary to see the prominent eye streaks, heavy spots, and bold coloration of a new backyard guest and a new addition to my life list -- an American kestrel.

It's fascinating to see the differences between the two birds' attacks. The kestrel is much more aggressive and less patient, waiting for just a few moments on one perch before seeking a better vantage point. Spook, on the other hand, will wait for long periods to observe his territory before making a move. Perhaps, as a slightly larger bird, he knows his agility -- while always exceptional -- is just a fraction slower than a kestrel's, and his behavior needs to be a bit different if he will be successful finding dinner.

Spook has returned to the yard for the past two days, resting both in the adjacent tree and coming all the way into our yard on the small tree where the kestrel staged that blatant attack. He looks disgruntled -- this is, after all, his territory -- and perhaps he'll be around a bit more frequently now to ensure that any meals found within its borders are his own. Whomever manages to dine here will be welcome, of course, whether they prefer seeds or larger fare. Will Kess return? I can't say, but if Spook finds out, our backyard wild kingdom is sure to get even wilder still.

A Hawk's Life

Over the weekend we were struck by yet another winter storm, this one with wet, heavy snow in varying intensities throughout the day. Yet even a heavy snow does not dampen bird activity, and in the midafternoon we discovered that our yard was under strict surveillance: Spook had returned.

It is fascinating to really watch a sharp shinned hawk, or any bird of prey. For long periods of time he perched attentively where he had good visibility -- at the top of a power pole, on the peak of a nearby garage, or in a tree along the property line. Once, for a moment, he alighted on our fence, but only for as long as it took to regain his balance before finding a more comfortable perch. The smaller birds: the finches, sparrows, and siskins, were conspicuous by their absence, but eventually the American goldfinches began to taunt our accipiter friend. One finch, or several, would fly erratically near the hawk, just out of reach of a quick strike but clearly meant to be seen. Spook might shift his weight, eyeing this seemingly easy prey, but he did not easily take the bait. Only when the finches would venture just a tad too close would he launch and dive after them, testing both his and their agility to the limit.

After less than a minute of frenetic activity, Spook would find another perch and rest there, his head continually scanning the landscape in a methodical pattern, searching for a morsel. After a time, the finch taunting would begin again only to culminate in another intense chase of aerobatics.

In the hour or more that he lurked around our yard, Spook's appetite must only have grown because his attacks were unsuccessful. Yet this juvenile hawk (clearly marked by the white feathers still showing through his darker plumage) is succeeding at survival, because even in the coldest, most unforgiving winter weather, he continues to hunt, to live, and ultimately, to soar. In the midst of the darkest winter days, if we can remember his perseverance, we too shall grow stronger and wiser as we survive until spring.

Exploding Trees

While checking the seed in the feeders this afternoon (I'm about to travel for the holiday -- hopefully to see new birds!), I was walking along the side of the garage when our neighbor's apple tree exploded. Or at least, one branch exploded in a noisy burst of leaves and action.

Sharp shinned hawks are small birds of prey, and don't make very big explosions.

Our juvenile hawk was lurking in the tree, waiting for his moment to dine. He was literally on the tail of either a house finch or house sparrow -- at the speeds they were flying it was impossible to tell -- and they veered between the houses, reappearing a second or two later in the opposite direction. Across our yard and just barely above trees across the property line they flew, the smaller bird darting and obviously terrified, but the hawk keeping up with precise determination. He dove, but missed, and the smaller bird flew rapidly away frantically chirping a warning while the hawk caught a small updraft and glided more leisurely in the opposite direction, ostensibly to find his next meal elsewhere.

In these few seconds of wild kingdom action, it was fascinating to observe the hawk's beautiful and acrobatic flight. Though he was unsuccessful in this attempt, his skills are obviously advancing from what they were earlier in the season. Our dear Spook is growing up.

Just one week left to vote in November's poll: How many species are on your life list?

Size is Relative

Having been awed by the golden eagle last weekend, I was amused to see the sharp-shinned hawk near the backyard again this week. Just a few weeks ago, the sharp shinned hawk was an awesome, inspiring visitor who amazed by his sheer size, keen eye, and regal bearing. Upon spotting him struggling with some turbulent air I had to smile -- he looks so small now.

I was so startled by this observation that I was compelled to check my field guides for measurements, and what I found was astonishing. I've been fortunate enough to quite literally see the two ends of the size spectrum for birds of prey. With a seven foot wingspan, the golden eagle is one of the largest birds of prey in North America (only California condors and bald eagles can be larger), while the less than two foot wingspan of the sharp shinned hawk is the smallest of the accipiter family.

Both birds, however, share the confidence of being fit, agile predators who dominate their territories. While the smaller hawk is more likely to practice stealth to approach his next meal and the eagle more calmly surveys all in his path with bold assurance, both are stunning examples of magnificent birds that I feel fortunate to observe.

Don't forget to vote in the October poll: What feeder(s) do you use?

Dinner Visit

What a difference being in the right position with different camera settings can make. Our juvenile sharp shinned hawk has returned -- frequently -- for dinner visits, though with poor success from our menu of finches and sparrows. There is a tree just over our property line that he tends to perch in, moving to the same spot on the fence occasionally for a better view. Still, the smaller birds can spot his immature, unrefined approach from enough of a distance to seek shelter quickly, and he's left without a bite.

Twice today he's visited, ironically once at lunch and once at dinner, neither time to any avail. With a clearer picture, however, there is no doubt remaining that he is a sharp shinned hawk. The pale stripe over his eye is clearly visible, a trait that is lacking in both adult species as well as juvenile cooper's hawks. The thinness of his legs is also startlingly apparent. Whereas some birdwatchers would find his appearance unwelcome and unattractive, I find him noble and graceful. It's a delightful treat to have him so near, though I will refrain from putting meat in the feeders; the buffet I set for the smaller birds is undoubtedly enough to supply food for all visitors, even if not in the way intended.

If you have trouble identifying your own hawks between these two species, I highly recommend the accipiter identification table and other resources from Project Feederwatch. Happy hawking!

Hawk Revealed

Thanks to generous assistance both from CapeCodAlan and now Bill Fenimore, a well-respected Utah birder and owner of the Wild Bird store in Layton, my accipiter visitor has been throughly identified as a sharp shinned hawk. Some tidbits about this graceful bird of prey:

• They feed by catching other birds on the wing.
• They have quite thin legs, sometimes described as "pencil thin."
• While they do migrate in other states, they are year-round residents in Utah.
• They are the smallest of the accipiter family.
• Their rounded wings and long tail make them extremely agile.

I hope to see him again soon, now that I know well what details to check, and with camera in hand to capture his poise and beauty. He's a rare treat, all the better for familiarity.

Who's the Hawk?

I have recently been paid a pair of puzzling visits by an as-yet-unknown hawk. He looks like he could be either a sharp shinned or a Cooper's hawk, but the two are so similar that identification is gravely challenging (see this lovely comparison by Project Feederwatch). At first glance he bears characteristics similar to both hawks, and it's maddening trying to ascertain which he really is. The only positive characteristic I can note is age; he has lighter colored, nearly yellow eyes, which according to CapeCodAlan of ebirdseed.com, indicates the bird is a juvenile.

His behavior also indicates inexperience. Twice in the past two weeks he has arrived with great fanfare at our backyard feeders, but neither time has he been successful in securing a meal. The first time he landed near the hopper feeder and waited there for a minute or two, stretching his wings and looking about as if wondering where the buffet had disappeared to. The second time, just this past weekend, I went to our patio doors to look out at the yard and he was perched on the platform feeder we keep just a few inches from the house. He stayed there for a period, eyeing me with caution but not concern.

Unfortunately, I have no superb pictures by which to determine a clear identification. I am wondering if indeed this is the same bird -- I believe so, but the first to visit may have been larger. CapeCodAlan believes he may be a sharp shinned hawk, and any fellow birders who have leads as to his identity are welcome to chime in; I'd love to know for certain who is preying in the backyard.

Which brings up the question of welcome. To some backyard birders, these birds of prey are most unwelcome -- our neighbors would prefer to chase him away when he frightens the smaller species. To me, however, it is a rare treat and privilege to have this unusual visitor grace my yard. And if, in doing so, smaller birds fall victim to his dives, then that too is a type of backyard birdfeeding. Perhaps not what I'd intended when refilling the seed feeders, but it is all part of the migration of life I'm happy to be a part of.