Go, Go Gadget Eyes!
Yesterday I went to the park for some idyllic peace and fresh air, but I brought the binocs just in case.
Immediately after arriving, I twice caught a glimpse of a smallish hawk-like guy (or gal) flying over the trees, but each time my view was quickly obscured as quem descended again. I walked in the direction quem had gone, but did not get my hopes too high.
(If you've been paying attention to this site, you already know that my senses for these types of birds are quite dull. I long for and eagerly await the day I will not be flummoxed by every bird of prey that crosses my path or flits through the trees at the side of it. It would also be handy to have flexible telescoping eyes.)
Like a true self-centered human, I chose to make myself comfortable and wait for it to come to me. Above my favorite nook by the babbling brook, I heard a persistent screech/squeak which sounded like it might come from a bird of that size. There were at least two birds in the trees across the water, but even though their calls sounded so near, I saw not a trace of them for at least ten minutes.
I finally spotted a movement, and for three or four seconds trained my binoculars on a shadowy figure in the trees. This was the best look I got at it, and at this inopportune moment I realized that I should have studied what would be most helpful to look for. I didn't get much further past hooked bill, drab colors, and spotted/streaky breast before the figure moved, perched for another two or three seconds, and then disappeared in yonder trees.
I heard it several more times, but I didn't see it again. I mulled over what I had seen. It was a small hawk if it was a hawk. The spotted/streaky breast was just shouting, "Juvenile!"--but not necessarily. The best shot I had was to find a recording of the calls of the most likely suspects.
Checking with Sibley on my return home, I had no success pinpointing something that looked like I remembered; the description of habitat, call, and behavior, however, threw my suspicions on the juvenile Red-Shouldered Hawk. The good ol' Internet then came through again with a call recording, and the calls seemed at least close enough. I am 85% certain I was squaring off with a sunburned buteo. But that's the hardest 15% of all.
Immediately after arriving, I twice caught a glimpse of a smallish hawk-like guy (or gal) flying over the trees, but each time my view was quickly obscured as quem descended again. I walked in the direction quem had gone, but did not get my hopes too high.
(If you've been paying attention to this site, you already know that my senses for these types of birds are quite dull. I long for and eagerly await the day I will not be flummoxed by every bird of prey that crosses my path or flits through the trees at the side of it. It would also be handy to have flexible telescoping eyes.)
Like a true self-centered human, I chose to make myself comfortable and wait for it to come to me. Above my favorite nook by the babbling brook, I heard a persistent screech/squeak which sounded like it might come from a bird of that size. There were at least two birds in the trees across the water, but even though their calls sounded so near, I saw not a trace of them for at least ten minutes.
I finally spotted a movement, and for three or four seconds trained my binoculars on a shadowy figure in the trees. This was the best look I got at it, and at this inopportune moment I realized that I should have studied what would be most helpful to look for. I didn't get much further past hooked bill, drab colors, and spotted/streaky breast before the figure moved, perched for another two or three seconds, and then disappeared in yonder trees.
I heard it several more times, but I didn't see it again. I mulled over what I had seen. It was a small hawk if it was a hawk. The spotted/streaky breast was just shouting, "Juvenile!"--but not necessarily. The best shot I had was to find a recording of the calls of the most likely suspects.
Checking with Sibley on my return home, I had no success pinpointing something that looked like I remembered; the description of habitat, call, and behavior, however, threw my suspicions on the juvenile Red-Shouldered Hawk. The good ol' Internet then came through again with a call recording, and the calls seemed at least close enough. I am 85% certain I was squaring off with a sunburned buteo. But that's the hardest 15% of all.
1 Comments:
I, too, recently had trouble identifying a hawkish bird. Gotta work on those!
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