For over a week now, we have been observing a juvenile red-tailed hawk in our backyard. He arrives every morning for coffee, and we await his visits eagerly. We observe him closely on his favorite perches in the trees that ring our small patch of lawn. Each of us—myself, my wife and our daughter—feels a special relationship with this bird. We know him.
A while back the three of us spent a day with a falconer in western North Carolina. We learned about the centuries-old tradition of falconry, and spent several hours on a clear, bitterly cold early winter afternoon taking turns having birds of prey swoop out of the sky and glide silently for hundreds of feet across the field in front us, before rearing up with talons raised and perching lightly on our outstretched gloved hand. It was spiritual.
Even more moving to a sentimental father like me was observing the cool calmness with which my daughter took to the whole affair. You would have thought that she had these awesome birds bombing out of the sky towards her face all the time. Peter, our falconer for the day, was sure she had done this before.
Many people feel a kinship with animals. Who among us has not felt the love of a dear pet or the heart wrenching goodbyes that such pets inevitably force on us? My house has suffered more than one of those tear-filled moments in recent years.
But these birds… When you stare into the eyes of a hawk from mere inches away, it is like staring into the soul of immortality itself. Quite honestly it is hard to describe the feeling of being so close to such a creature. I have never looked eye to eye with a whale or an elephant, but I suspect the feeling is similar.
The red-tailed hawk is the largest hawk in North America, with a wingspan of up to 4.5 feet. They are also the most widespread, and can be found year-round from Mexico to southern Canada and from the Pacific coast to the Atlantic. We see them commonly throughout the South, perched on roadside power lines, scanning the open fields and forest margins for prey.
Most of us probably assume that all birds of prey hunt only small mammals: squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks, the occasional free-ranging backyard chicken. However, sharing our November mornings with our new neighbor has given us glimpses into the behavior of these beautiful beasts that I was not aware of before. We regularly observe him on the ground, foraging for items we cannot see. Insects? Worms? According to Audubon, red-tailed hawks will indeed sometimes eat insects, toads, frogs and various other creatures. Who would have thought these magnificent denizens of the sky would stoop so low to eat a worm? Oh, the shame…
We will not hold it against him, however. Perhaps he considers our yard a safe place to indulge in his guilty pleasure, hidden from the jeers and mockery of his raptor friends. We are happy to provide him safe harbor.
Despite the relative commonness of the red-tailed hawk, the Cornell Lab of Ornithology says that “you are unlikely to see them in your backyard.” What do they know? We have coffee with one every morning.
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