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"THERE'S AN ACCIPITER!" And with
those words, that screech, that excited verbal eruption, my son and I were
birding. We had just arrived back in our neighborhood this afternoon after
running errands, and I caught sight of a hawk soaring in tight circles
against the backdrop of cotton ball clouds. I pulled over and stopped
quickly enough to dump to the floor the items that were on my front
seat. The hawk broke away from its swirling and alternately
glided and flapped in the direction from which we had approached. No
problem! I turned around quickly and the chase was
on.
My view was always bad. Trees purposely and
vindictively wedged themselves between me and the flapping, gliding hawk, or the
hawk flew high over the passenger's side. The only impression I had
picked up after a minute or two was that the tail was very long.
After several turns, stops and shameless long-necked gawking out the
window, the hawk hung in the air for a few seconds on my son's side of the
truck. And then...it tucked its wings close to its flanks in a
stoop and became a dead ringer for a smart bomb like those you see in
slo-mo on the Discovery Wings channel. I guessed where the hawk's
trajectory would take it and made a fraction-of-a-second glance to my
left. It was headed for a thick hedge next to a wooded yard--a favorite
haunt of California Quail. The hawk was a gray blur as it
swooped fifty feet ahead of the truck and crossed the road. Just
as it bottomed out of its stoop, it buzzed several gray fleeing
objects--presumably quail feeding next to the hedge, spread its wings, and
flared up into a tree overhanging the hedge.
The hawk was well disguised even without foliage on
the trees. It took two new perches in the wooded yard and I still couldn't
see it. The hawk's opportunity with the quail was lost, but the
stoop provided me with another clue--size of the intended prey. The
hunter took flight again and rose in quick circles high above my side of
the truck and in front of us. The hawk came 'round and 'round again
and offered great views of its shape and proportions. Its head projected
out in front of the straight leading edges of its wings. The wrist area of
the wing did not have the appearance of being pushed forward. That tail
still impressed me with its length. I focused exclusively on the
length of the tail and forgot to examine the shape of the end of
it. Oh, well. I think I accumulated enough field marks or
behavior traits to conclude the Accipiter was a Cooper's Hawk.
My son dutifully looked at the hawk through the
binoculars, but he was relieved when I finally gave up the chase. And his
reaction to the hot pursuit? "MOM! I'm telling Dad you chased a bird with your
truck!" Ah, my little innocent. Hee-hee. It
wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last.
Kris
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