This is Why I Bird

["John J. Burnish, III" <johnburnish at attbi dot com>]

Every once in a while I have a birding experience so remarkable, so
awe-inspiring, so wonderful, it reminds me of why I'm a birder.  I had one
such experience today.

I left the house without a clear destination, and found myself headed up
Ogden Canyon with the loosely formed idea that I would visit the North Arm
of Pineview Reservoir.  Speeding along Highway 158 in bright sunlight, I
passed a telephone pole at 787 Eden Highway that was obviously ornamented
with a light-colored raptor on top.  The bird warranted another look.  I
made the obligatory birder's U-turn farther north at a turnout; another
south of the pole, and pulled off the road at a crazy easterly-tilt down
an embankment about 150 feet from my quarry.

What a thrill at first sight.  I had found a prairie falcon at its dinner
table.  The bird hunkered over its catch and obliged me with a complete
demonstration of falcon feeding behavoir.  Its now-red and meaty looking
meal securely pinned with its feet, the falcon methodically stripped,
plucked, and tugged hunks of meat and swallowed them with a
gulp-gulp-gulp.  The bird looked ravenous.

Each time it dipped for another strip, the flat top of its head appeared
to me like a lovely, pale brown oval.  The brown wings and back were a
trim, streamlined cape.  Its mustaches appeared a little darker brown and
very narrow, and gave way behind to white cheeks, and below in a white
creamy breast that extended far down into its belly.  I noticed the bird
had the appearance of a spotted brown necklace low over the shoulders, and
open where the creamy neck became the breast.  I marveled at how heavily
feathered its "knickers" were, and how its tawny brown shoulders looked
trimmed with a clean white strip along their leading edges.  Its primaries
appeared sharply pointed and the tips were crossed much of the time the
bird dipped to feed.

After the falcon consumed the meaty portion of the meal, it began to pluck
feathers and discard them to float lazily down to the snow below.  Based
on the size of the prey and the time the falcon took to consume it, I
speculated the unfortunate victim was a jay-sized bird or perhaps a robin.
The tufts of downy-looking feathers looked slate-gray.  Later, I saw
lighter gray primaries spinning down like a maple tree's helicopters.

The falcon finished its feeding and backed around the top of the pole
looking for more.  Then it was still, looking uncharacteristically unkempt
with a great blob of downy gray feathers on its beak.  A few swipes across
the flat pole top didn't dislodge the evidence of the meal it had just
consumed with such gusto.  Then, up came the great yellow foot,
alternately scraping and scratching.  The falcon dislodged the feathers
after a few tries and restored its foreboding and regal appearance.

I'm sure at least 20 minutes had passed since the moment I pulled off the
road to watch the dining drama.  But I waited still, because I wanted to
see one more thing.the diagnostic mark of the dark axillaries.  I didn't
know if the falcon would preen and groom following its meal, or find a
quieter perch absent the highway.  I didn't have long to wait.  It gave a
great shake and ruffled its feathers all over, tantalizing me with a
slight lift of its wings.  And then, it flew.  The dark axillaries flashed
at me repeatedly as the bird headed east in a beeline across Pineview
Reservoir.  I watched until I lost it in the brown mountains that form the
cradle around Huntsville.

I'm a birder for moments like this.to watch this beautiful raptor rip and
tear and strip apart a meal against the backdrop of white snow, blue sky,
and brown mountains.  For me, this is entertainment in its finest form.


Kris Purdy

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