This is my desert, tomorrow.

Pokie stretching (actually called warbling in old falconry parlance) from the top of my Nisson Xterra out in the Morley Nelson SRBPNA. Yesterday, he circled straight up a couple hundred feet and finally sailed back to the car.

Today, I did not let him fly. The wind was picking up and there were a bunch of bored ravens downwind that would have loved to have this little guy to work over. It won't be long before he is putting those corvids in their place, but not this morning. I have had a few bad experiences with young Prairie Falcons and Ravens at this stage.

Tale of two punks

Tough guy, Pokie being a playful imprint. He jumped up and footed the camera a second after this shot was snapped. He isn't being being mean, but boy can he play bite. My nose is all scarred up.

Next is me and rambuncuous grandson Daniel. Man, can this little guy wear me out. He will scratch my nose too with his sharp little fingernails. Or more likely grab my glasses off and slime them.

Kids! They keep you young.
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Love the water

Pokie, the tiercel Peregrine watches Skula the Gyrfalcon bath with great interest. Enough to interupt eating his morning sparrow breakfast.

When Skula was done, Pokie was in that pan in a flash and had a ball. I think Peregrines were called Duck Hawks because they love the water as much as a duck.

While Skula jumps out the minute he feels like he is being watched, Pokie had to be removed from it to dry off in the sun. Just like any kid.

Since this is an age that young Peregrines are still staying up on their nest ledge, makes you wonder if bathing interest is one of the forces that makes them fly for the first time. Urban Peregrine watchers might put bath pans on nearby rooftops so that the young branchers can get some relief.

Newest member of the family

It is hard to imagine this fuzzy baby peregrine being scarry to anything (other than this wad of tissue). Just home with me, from his breeder's hands, Pokie, a tiercel, is growing rapidly. His mother is an anatum peregrine of Canadian origins. His father is from California stock. Both, results of the re-introduction efforts started 30 years ago, no longer needed today for wild release.
I can't wait to start taking the little guy out for his first flights. While he is still so young I am taking him to work and everywhere so as to make him as tame as possible.
It is still too early to tell if he will be a human imprint. I think he was left with his parents a few days too long(for imprinting to me). He still hisses at the approach of my hand. He can probably be paired with another peregrine in a couple of years, if I should want to attempt falcon breeding.
This morning I sat with him on Main street in Boise, out front of the Owyhee Plaza, waiting for my wife. Pokie was able to watch the Boise peregrines fly in and out of their nest box with great interest. Little did he know(at least in a way I could recognize) there were four baby peregrines like him up there, waiting for their day to fly. He may even end up interacting with one of them later this summer in their flights around the Treasure Valley.

Unexpected Jewels

Little jewel surprises at Cloverdale Nursery this morning. Black Hills spruce cones.

Whats missing?

What the ...
A bad omen has appeared at the Nursery. Last year, a pair of Swainson's Hawks were nesting in a big, old Black Locust tree, across a busy street in someone's yard, in a subdivision. It is the site of an old farm house.The house had been recently renovated, but it looked like these hawks had nested in this tree since the days when there was open farmland all around. Now they are urban hawks, hunting in the tree farm and fields about a mile away. They showed up on their spring migration from Argentina or somewhere, just about the same day I returned to work.I heard the light-phase pair, way up high before I could see them, on a bright spring day with a strong south wind.

I did not notice it right away. Something was amiss as I watched the hawks flying around the nursery and neighborhood in a confused manner. Then I saw it, or rather didn't see it. The nest tree was gone. There was a big gaping hole in the tree line across the street. Sometime this winter, the owners had that tree removed.The male sat in one of his hunting trees, staring at the emptiness all day yesterday. I felt sorry for him and his mate. "What the hell are we going to do now?"I could imagine him saying to himself. Nesting sites for hawks are getting squeezed out of the environment around here at an alarming rate.Will they try to re-build in one of the younger trees on the same lot? Or will they vacate this very marginal territory and try to find a new place where there is not already an established pair of Swainsons or red-tails. That would be tough.If they leave, I will be sad for their absence in my daily work place.

They were very entertaining to watch, especially when they were hunting fledgling birds in the nursery and when their young were making their first clumsy flights. Should I go over and ask the people why they took the tree away? Did they dislike the hawks?An old Black Locust can be a miserable tree to have in a manicured yard, so I guess I can see why they might have wanted it gone. At least it was removed when the hawks were gone for the winter. Just imagine how terrible it would be to return home from a long trip to find your house gone. It bothers me anyway.
Expect updates on these birds. I am curious to see just what they do. I am also watching a pair of red-tails whose old nest blew down in a wind recently. They seem to be re-building.
Tags: wild hawks
Current Location: Cloverdale Nursery
Current Mood: distressed
Current Music: Their conversations in the sky

Coopers Falcon ?

Finally back to work at Cloverdale Nursery for spring 2010. I was getting re-acquainted with the trees, healed in the back area, when I noticed a large(female) Coopers Hawk rising into the sky in a soar. Once she reached a few hundred feet, she was right above me, as I moved through a section of crab apple trees. A "herd" of Robins, on their way north, chattered nervously at the end of the row. The 2" to 3" caliper trees were still full of old, dried- out fruit, left from last season. Snowdrift and Indian Magic crabs for the most part, for those who might be interested in good wildlife varieties.

Suddenly, the hawk folded into a tear drop shape and stooped like a falcon into the bird laden trees in front of me. Dozens of red-breasted thrushes busted out of their lunch room and headed for the adjacent neighborhood,
with the hawk right behind them. She appeared to be an adult, flashing some blue as she scooted over a cedar fence. "Blue Darter" indeed !

Could not tell if she scored. I don't suppose she will have a hard time finding food around the nursery, on her way to the mountains. Last fall, I found a pile of Robin feathers on top of a big root ball, which had the mark of the accipiter all over it.