Full Moon Hawks Return

I have been feeding songbirds in one place for decades. They know me, trust me, entertain me with music all day and glorious colorful diversity and they probably depend on me to some extent. I grow what they like to feed on in summer and fall, tons of berries and fruits of native and immigrant plants. And I grow a lot of trees and plants, native and immigrant, that nurture the lives of myriad insects, who also feed the birds. In November, as stocks start to decline and cold sets in, I subsidize with feeder seed to get them through the winter and early spring. It is a bountiful place to hang out if you are a bird and open to all. 

Last winter everything changed with a new addition at the feeders, a young Cooper’s hawk took up residence as well. Birds of prey used to be rarely seen on our property with only a few occasional visitors during migration periods. Great horned owls are often in evidence at night with their welcome goodnight hoots before our bedtime and kingfishers patrol the lakeside for their meals. But hawks made only occasional stop-overs, whether because food was ample elsewhere or because they did not thrive in as great numbers as they seem to do now.

What are usually in abundance, aside from the songbirds, are crows. Crows keep together in family groups and can be annoying to all nearby, especially single predators. They are relentless protectors of their territory and can get quite furious with the presence of supposed marauders like owls, hawks and local cats on the prowl. The songbirds rely on their warnings caws, as do I, to alert us to danger. In some Native American stories, the crow represents the Law, and it is easy here to see why. They rule the areas in which they live for the protection of their tribe. Until now.

This fall a full grown red-tailed hawk seems to have set up residence nearby. His daily presence in the trees around the house is a disturbing addition to our usual calm, but he seems little disturbed by the crows or any of us humans or dogs who also reside here. He knows he is not hunted. He sometimes sits in a tree waiting for hours, perhaps just digesting, but in no hurry to leave. He thinks he has his own feeder, I suppose, and the pickings are easy when supplied by others. He has a lot in common with the rat in my compost.

Today I decided to give him some more of my attention after filling the feeders. I took my camera out and watched him as he watched me photograph. I watched him and watched and watched and he finally got annoyed enough by my accounting of his actions as he moved from branch to branch that he got bored, or hungry, and flew off. It may be my only defense of my defenseless small birds. Watch hawks like a hawk and they will get tired of it. They may even go catch a rat. Let’s hope.