Tag Archives: Birding

The Backyard Hawk(s)

One afternoon back in December my youngest child barreled into the house out of breath and very excited. He had been buzzed by a hawk that had flown low through our backyard and settled in a tree by our driveway. He wanted to show it to me and rushed me to put on my shoes and follow. When I went outside he jumped up and down and pointed to show me a very calm red-shouldered hawk perched in a pine tree looking down at us.

Red-shouldered hawk, photo by me.

My older kids and their friends on the alley played basketball nearby (quite loudly) but the hawk didn’t seem to care. My youngest son and I laid back on the driveway to take in everything we could. We have a number of hawks in our area, but they only occasionally hang out in our yard. He and I examined the feathers and talons through binoculars and the camera, talked about what the hawk might think of us, and basked in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

I eventually went inside, but he stayed and watched some more. Within five minutes he barreled into the house again to tell me that he had seen the hawk swoop down, pick up a mouse, fly back up to the branch, drop the mouse, re-capture it, then devour it whole. He was very excited and I told him I wished I’d seen it. Of course, a few minutes later the story had changed: first the meal switched from a mouse to a lizard, then from a lizard to a snake, then back to a mouse. I’m not sure what exactly he saw, but I am glad he was excited about it and thought to share it with me.

I want my kids to love nature and to be curious about it. Like a campfire, though, it’s hard to find the balance between kindling an interest and smothering it. I can’t count the times they have asked a question about an animal or plant and I have jumped in with facts and explanations only to see them lose interest. I’ve learned to try and offer less, and let them ask more questions when they have them (in truth, I’m still working on this).

There are cases like this hawk, though, where our interest levels align and we get to share a moment like this one. Our youngest finds raptors fascinating, and this was the first time he got to see one up close in the wild. I’m glad he got that experience and that he thought to spring me into the moment. I was surprised my older children weren’t as interested, but let it go and left them to their basketball game. They don’t like to learn as much or watch animals for as long as their little brother, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t picked something up.

Yesterday when they took our dog for a walk they saw a hawk perched on the neighbor’s fence. They stopped to watch until it tired of being the show and flew off. When they came home they were excited and had big smiles as they talked about it. I was glad to listen, grateful for their joy and the sense of awe they felt (though they probably wouldn’t describe it that way).

I like to think as a parent I instilled some of that in them, but it’s probably more of a natural human reaction. These are beautiful birds and it’s hard not to feel something when you come across them, whether in a forest or in your backyard. I hope they always keep their eyes open like that, and that they never stop sharing what they see with me.

Confessions of a covid birder

One of the side effects of everyone being stuck at home in the pandemic has been a surge in people taking up birdwatching as a hobby. I came to this in my own way and time. It started back in the spring when a pair of robins built a nest in the bush outside our screen porch. As we spent more time on the porch to expand the space available in the house, I listened and snuck peaks until one day the family moved on.

Song sparrow behind our library, photo by me.

Later in the spring a pair of mourning doves built a nest in the corner of our front porch. I could see the nest from my desk, allowing me to check-in on progress during virtual meetings. I watched the parents take turns sitting on the eggs until two chicks hatched. I watched them make non-stop trips back and forth to keep the chicks fed. Then my whole family watched the drama as the parents tried to get the chicks out of the nest. One flew off, but the other (who we named Randy) was less sure and took a lot of coaxing. The parents would sit in the tree off the porch and chirp, then they would stand on the eaves and try to nudge Randy off. Eventually, though, Randy made it and we all cheered when we saw an empty nest one Friday morning.

I felt empty when the doves left, though. I’d gotten used to the birds and missed them so I tried to fill the void. I bought a hummingbird feeder and watched a ruby-throated hummingbird drink and defend the feeder through the late summer and fall. On a trip to the mountains I obsessed over the birds flitting through the trees behind our rental cabin. I bought binoculars, bird guides, and feeders. My youngest son and I took our first birding tour in Maine. This gave me something to do, and made me feel connected to the world outside my house.

But as my habit grew, I realized that I was one of many people who had picked up birding during quarantine. This caused a small crisis for me. I’ve sometimes had a weird reaction when I realized something I liked was also liked by others. You’d think I’d be glad to have “found my people” but I often felt anxious, either because I’d lost something that made me special or because I was afraid of being rejected by the group. I’d have these kinds of thoughts about books, music, or other hobbies. In conversations if someone indicated they liked something I did, or asked about my interests, I could have opened up and shared, but I often went into a shell and mumbled something vague that killed the conversation.

I’d grown to like birding, but was worried that I was part of a trend and somehow would be seen as fake. Was a birder that picked up birding in the pandemic like me be a “real” birder? Is this just some habit I picked up as a part of a collective subconscious? Did I need to prove myself?

I don’t know why I’ve always had these kinds of thoughts, but luckily I’ve done a better job fighting my anxiety. It’s helped that the experienced birding community is very welcoming, and I realize it can be a good thing if more people get out and enjoy nature. While the number of birders has increased this year, the number of birds has been steadily declining. Maybe having all these people involved will ultimately help the birds that I’ve gotten to enjoy.

I don’t know if this hobby will stick after the pandemic ends. I’d like to think it will but can’t say for certain. However long I stick with it, I’m glad I found birding during quarantine. I’ve learned a lot and enjoy hanging out with my feathered neighbors. There are so many reasons to want to forget 2020 that it’s nice to have something your want to remember and carry on.