Category Archives: Birds of Prey

Out of this World


If you watch birds in Pennsylvania a glance at this one suggests it’s a red-tailed or rough-legged hawk.  

Nope.  It’s an upland buzzard (Buteo hemilasius), native to Central Asia. 

Todd Katzner is on a field expedition in Mongolia and emailed me this picture yesterday, a sample of the stunning raptors he’s seeing there. 

A lot of my scientist friends do field work in the summer, something I’ve never done.  To get a sense of what their trips are like I’ve been reading Tingay & Katzner’s The Eagle Watchers. 

Ghostly New Guinea harpy eagles, wary and comical Steller’s sea eagles.

The birds they see on field expeditions are out of this world.

(photo by Dr. Todd Katzner of the National Aviary)

Peregrine Chat Tonight with Dr. Katzner + his new Book

Tonight from 7:00pm-7:30pm, Dr. Todd Katzner will be on the Cathedral of Learning webcam chat to answer your questions about peregrine falcons.  

Dr. Katzner is Director of Conservation and Field Research at the National Aviary and a raptor expert who’s spent years studying eagles around the world. 

His experiences and those of others led him to co-edit a new book with Dr. Ruth E. Tingay — The Eagle Watchers — just released by Cornell University Press. 

In the book, Dr. Katzner and 28 other field biologists provide an insider’s view of what it’s like to study eagles in remote locations around the globe. 

Each chapter is a field trip, a personal narrative that chronicles harrowing and sometimes humorous adventures and provides rare insight into the lives and behaviors of eagles.  The book features stunning color photographs, information on raptor conservation, and a global list of eagle species and their conservation status.

Tingay and Katzner want their book to help birds of prey in more ways than one.  Proceeds from the book will benefit Hawk Mountain Sanctuary in Pennsylvania and the National Birds of Prey Trust in the United Kingdom.  

You can purchase The Eagle Watchers from Cornell University Press or Amazon

And remember, to participate in tonight’s online chat about peregrines just login at the “Please sign in or sign up for free” links on the Cathedral of Learning webcam page.

(photo from Cornell University Press and The National Aviary)

Urban Kestrels, New York


I think of kestrels as rural birds because I often see them perched on wires above fields.  In fact, they’re cavity nesters so if they find a good hole to nest in and plenty of food they’ll set up shop anywhere that affords them a long sight line to the next meal.

American kestrels are our smallest falcon, only the size of robins, and they capture small prey: grasshoppers, mice and small birds.  This earned them the nickname Sparrow Hawk so I shouldn’t be surprised that they hang out in cities where there are plenty of house sparrows.  In our biggest city?  Yes, kestrels nest in New York.

For many years a small group of dedicated New Yorkers has been studying the city’s kestrels and keeping tabs on their nests.  Three years ago they realized the task was too big for them alone so they published a poster (Have You Seen This Bird? in 14 languages!) and “Birding Bob” DeCandido began emailing a Kestrel newsletter.  The group has grown as people discover kestrels, begin monitoring their nests, and rescue the fledglings who land in unsafe places. 

Monitoring kestrel nests can be fun.  The birds often choose nest sites in the damaged cornices of old buildings.  What a surprise when they poke their heads out of the holes!  The challenge comes when the young fledge and land on the street.  Fortunately people rescue the birds and they get excellent rehab care.  I was hooked when I read Jim O’Brien’s blog about the release of the rescued kestrels in Central Park last June.  Too bad I don’t live in New York.  I’d have been there!

Overall, American kestrels seem to be doing well but the count of kestrels at eastern hawk watches has declined for the past 20 years.  This is worrisome, so anything we can do to help kestrels is a plus.  Thanks to these folks — Robert DeCandido, Jim O’Brien, Deborah Allen, Bobby Horvath, Cathy St. Claire, Chad Seewagen and K.A. Peltomaa — and to those who’ve learned from them, New York City’s kestrels may be the most successful breeding population on the East Coast.

If you live in New York and want to help, click on the poster link above for more information or contact Robert DeCandido 718-828-8262 (rdcny<AT>earthlink.net), Jim O’Brien (YoJimBot<AT>gmail.com) or Deborah Allen (DAllenyc<AT>earthlink.net).   Just change the <AT> to an @ sign to send them email.

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p.s.  I love how this urban kestrel is perched on a wire… razor wire.

(photo by Robert DeCandido, PhD)

So cute

Great horned owl mother and owlet (photo by Chuck Tague)
One of the highlights of my trip to Florida was a visit to Fort Matanzas National Monument to see the great horned owl‘s nest.

I say the great horned owl’s nest because it’s so easy to see that it’s become one of the Fort’s main attractions – at least to birders.

The nest is on the branch of a huge live oak about 20 feet above the sidewalk behind the Visitor’s Center.  It is so centrally located that everyone who takes the boat tour must walk beneath it.  The backyard slopes up from the live oak and on that rise the National Park Service has set up scopes with a view straight into the nest.  The father owl always perches nearby and there’s a scope on him too.  You can see the entire family close up.  Amazing!

The day I visited, mother owl was brooding her baby who sleepily stirred on the nest.  The baby yawned and blinked.  He stretched and poked at the ferns with his beak.  Mama sheltered him with her wing and Papa watched from his nearby roost.  All was peaceful.  This baby is well protected by two powerful adult owls with sharp beaks and talons and by signs and explanations from the National Park rangers.

Chuck took plenty of pictures while we were there and returned a week later to see how much the baby had grown.  Click on the photo to see what he looked like last weekend.

So cute!

(photos by Chuck Tague)

Whoooo Said That?

Great-horned owl, hooting (photo by Chuck Tague)

Though it’s the middle of winter, January is the month when great-horned owls court and nest in southwestern Pennsylvania.  Their courtship is such a noisy affair it can’t be ignored if you’re near it.

When I was about five years old my whole family was roused one night when an owl hooted in the big tree outside my window.  While I wrung my hands and my two-year-old brother cried, my dad went from window to window, trying to see the source of the disturbance.  My fear turned to fascination when he said, “It’s an owl.”

Oh boy!  Where?

I don’t remember if there were two owls that night but if I heard it again I’d listen for both.  The male and female serenade each other, described in this excerpt from W.D. Snodgrass’s poem that was featured on The Writer’s Almanac. (Click here for the entire poem.)

Owls — by W.D. Snodgrass
”  There: the dark male, low
And booming, tremoring the whole valley.
There: the female, resolving, answering
High and clear, restoring silence.”

The owl serenade builds up to mating, and then to nests, eggs and babies.  They court in winter because it takes so long — about three and a half months — from nest to fully fledged owlet.

Click here for a male and female duet (with lots of crickets in the background).

Click here for the sound of three owls hooting.

Now that I know, I won’t be afraid if I hear them hooting.

Whoooo said that?  It’s owls in love.

(photo of a great-horned owl by Chuck Tague.  The owl’s white throat feathers are showing because he’s hooting.  Read more about this owl on Chuck Tague’s blog.)

Lunch at the Library

Immature red-tailed hawk eating at the library (photo by Beth Lawry)
Before Christmas I missed one of the most exciting bird events to occur at our library in a long time.

Normally I visit the main branch of Carnegie Library several times a week.  It’s an appealing destination in winter: warm and dry, the right distance for a lunchtime walk, lots of books, free Internet access, food and drink at the cafe, a good view of the Pitt peregrines from the front steps (if they’re visible), and the possibility of running into friends.

But that week I worked through lunch so I missed Nature, red in tooth and claw — er, rather, red in beak and claw — when an immature red-tailed hawk very publicly ate a gray squirrel near the library’s front door.  (Don’t look too closely if you’re squeamish!)

The event was impossible to miss, if only I’d been there.  Fortunately I received this photo from Beth Lawry and read about it on the library’s Eleventh Stack blog.  Click on the photo to reach the blog.

Apparently I’m not the only one who spends lunchtime at the library.

(photo by Beth Lawry)

Want to see eagles?

Immature Bald Eagle, Crooked Creek (photo by Steve Gosser)

Bald eagles, that is. Though most birds have left the northern part of the continent by now, December is a great time to see these majestic birds of prey. 

Bald eagles are sea eagles, more closely related to white-tailed eagles than to goldens, so you’ll always find them near open water.  As the lakes freeze up north, bald eagles move south and then to the rivers.

Near Pennsylvania the best place by far to see winter eagles is at Conowingo Dam on the Susquehanna River in Maryland.  Unfortunately Conowingo is a 4.5 hour drive from Pittsburgh so when I don’t have the time to make the trip there are places in western Pennsylvania where I can find an eagle or two – or more.

Pymatuning is one such place, about two hours away.  Bald eagles live at the lake year round and nest within sight of the Game Commission Wildlife Learning Center. It’s easy for them to stay all year, even in freezing conditions, because there’s always some open water at the spillway.

Even closer and only a 45-minute drive is Lake Arthur at Moraine State Park, a good place for eagles when the lake’s not completely frozen.  The Three Rivers Birding Club held an outing there last Saturday and was treated to a heart-stopping moment when a pair of bald eagles attacked a flock of coots.  Watch the 3RBC website and their newsletter, The Peregrine, for details on what happened next. 

You can also find bald eagles at Crooked Creek Lake in Armstrong County, only an hour away.  A pair of eagles nested there last year and are courting now in preparation for nesting in January.  I saw both adults last weekend plus two of their “kids” as I watched from the Overlook.  Marge Van Tassel and Steve Gosser tipped me off to this site. Shown above is Steve’s picture of one of the immatures taken on December 5th.  Nice, eh?

And the colder it gets, the more likely you won’t even have to leave town to see an eagle.  As the lakes freeze bald eagles will come to Pittsburgh’s three rivers.  Watch the Allegheny, Monongahela and especially the Ohio at Dashields Dam. 

Far or near, December’s a good time to see “sea” eagles.

(photo by Steve Gosser)

Fight!

American crows attacking an immature Coopers Hawk (photo by Steve Gosser)
With so many crows in town it’s inevitable they’ll encounter a predator they don’t like.  Pity the immature Coopers hawk in this picture! 

As a species Coopers hawks have enough moxy to cope with crows but 3 to 1 is stretching the odds. 

I’m sure the crows started it.  A “Coop” is not going to eat a healthy adult crow but the crows remember what the hawk can do to their weak youngsters, so when they found an immature Coopers hawk they decided to test their strength, maybe have a little fun at the hawk’s expense. 

They’re serious about this fight but it’s not life threatening.  Eventually it breaks up, no one gets hurt, and everyone involved learns a valuable lesson. 

The crows learn about cooperation.  The Coopers hawk learns to avoid gangs.

(photo by Steve Gosser, September 2008)

Special Kestrels

American Kestrel, male (photo by Brian Herman)
Since I missed the Allegheny Front Hawk Watch last weekend I’m itching to go out there today — but I can’t, I have to work.  To compensate for this I spent time last evening looking through the hawk watch records at Hawkcount.org.  The statistics are fascinating and they support a hunch I started to develop last year.

Every fall I attend two hawk watches 775 miles apart.  In early September I visit the Cadillac Mountain Hawk Watch in Maine and see mostly American kestrels and sharp-shinned hawks, approximately one kestrel for every two sharpies.  Then in October/November I visit the Allegheny Front where the most common hawks are sharp-shins and red-tails in nearly equal numbers.  The kestrel count there is low, sometimes insignificant. 

I used to think my experience at Cadillac Mountain was normal for September and that I missed seeing kestrels at The Front because I visited it too late in the fall.  (That’s how I miss broad-winged hawk migration.)  But I had a hunch I’d got it backwards.  Perhaps, I thought, kestrels are scarce and my experience at Cadillac is unusual.

The numbers at Hawkcount.org bear that out.  Compared to the number of sharp-shinned hawks, kestrels are 40-60% as numerous at Cadillac but are only 4-10% as numerous in Pennsylvania.

Kestrels really aren’t a big item at most hawk watches and my experience isn’t “normal.”  I prefer to think of it as special.  Special, like the kestrels themselves who are one of the most beautiful raptors on earth.

(photo of a male American Kestrel by Brian Herman)

Sharp-shin

Sharp-shinned Hawk (photo by Kim Steininger)

With a look that strikes terror in the hearts of small birds, this sharp-shinned hawk hunted at Kim Steininger’s backyard feeders on a snowy winter day.

Kim was lucky to see him.  Though they’re present year-round in Pennsylvania and are the most numerous raptor at hawk watches this month, sharp-shins are very unusual in my Pittsburgh neighborhood in winter.

The last time I saw a sharp-shinned hawk was quite recent, though.  Last Monday I sat on top of a cliff called Giant Ledge in the Slide Mountain Wilderness of the Catskill Mountains and gazed to the east.  It was a chilly overcast day with no bird activity.  The maple and beech forest below me was clad in reds and yellows.  I could see for miles.  No birds.

Then one small hawk rose from the valley floor 1,000 feet below.  He circled to gain altitude and in a matter of minutes rose past my line of sight until he was above all the mountains.  Then he set his course and disappeared to the south.  Flap, flap, glide.

(photo by Kim Steininger)