Yesterday I photographed an attack by an American Kestrel on an adult Red-tailed Hawk. What made it unusual was the fact that the hawk didn’t see the kestrel coming, so its reaction to being thumped on the head was, well… amusing.
After yet another snowstorm all day yesterday I felt the need to post something this morning with absolutely nothing white in the background. This juvenile Red-tailed Hawk taking off after prey filled the bill.
Two days ago this juvenile Red-tailed Hawk put on quite a show for me but for a variety of reasons I blew many of the chances I had with it.
Occasionally I run across a bird that just looks, well…. silly. This juvenile Red-tailed Hawk was one of them.
Because of my fondness for raptor take-off shots I work hard at trying to predict what direction they will take off so I can be as prepared as possible. But to say it’s not an exact science is an understatement.
I sometimes see hawks buried so deeply in trees that I can’t help but wonder how they’re going to fly out without injury or at least feather damage. They occasionally appear to “think” about their escape route just before take-off, which implies “planning”. Some images I took yesterday brought the question to mind once again – are hawks capable of “planning”?
Last month we ventured out into the west desert in an attempt to locate and photograph buteos and Golden Eagles. With the exception of one adult Red-tailed Hawk and a (mostly uncooperative) Golden Eagle who let us get close it was largely a frustrating morning.
The red-tail was perched in a tree that was swaying in the wind and it was quite entertaining to watch it rockin’ and rollin’ as it attempted to remain stable on its unstable perch.
Red-tailed Hawks in North America are “sit and wait predators” who do most of their hunting (60 – 80%) from elevated perches. Though they do hunt from the air, that is not their primary hunting style. In fact, availability of elevated perches is a key factor in determining their foraging distribution.
Antelope Island is largely treeless and without power poles so Red-tails tend to be found in specific locations on the island where elevated natural perches are available. One of their favorite foraging spots is an area where there are large outcroppings of Farmington Canyon Complex rocks jutting out from the side of a small mountain, which is where I found this bird hunting voles
Raptor landing shots are one of my most difficult photographic challenges and I attempt them every reasonable chance I get. This one turned out to be unexpectedly interesting, at least from a photographer’s point of view.
Mia and I have been visiting the Centennial Valley for about five years now (usually 3-4 times every summer) and at least once each trip, as we passed this lichen-covered rock next to the road, I would mention to her how much I would like to photograph a raptor on one of these red rocks. There’s just something about my fondness for each, the lichen covered rocks and birds of prey, that has made that kind of photograph a personal goal. But it never happened for some reason. The birds of prey just don’t seem to perch on them, preferring instead the fence posts, utility poles and trees that are usually a little too far away from the road. It’s been an unfulfilled goal for a long time.
But all that changed last week.
Northern Harriers are well-known for aggressive behavior toward larger raptors intruding on their territory but seldom chase off raptor species smaller than themselves. This interesting behavioral quirk apparently results from the ability of harriers to steal food from smaller raptors. It’s easier to pilfer prey from a smaller species than it is to catch it yourself so harriers let them hang around.
About a year ago I spent some time with this juvenile Red-tailed Hawk as it honed its hunting skills. It wasn’t yet a very good hunter but it sure tried hard. It typically perched on top of some rocky outcrops as it scanned the grassy slopes below for voles. Then it would swoop down and make its attempt, though it seldom caught anything that I was aware of. Learning to hunt isn’t easy and the price to pay for failure is a dear one.
A little over a month ago I found this juvenile Red-tailed Hawk just standing around on a gravel road in the Centennial Valley of Montana. It’s behavior seemed at least a little odd because I’d never seen this species act so nonchalant when perched so low for so long – especially on a road.
Typically I don’t have high hopes of getting any decent shots during the almost 30 mile drive on a dirt/gravel road from our usual camping spot to the first paved road. Imagine if you can the noise, the dust and the bird-scattering spectacle of my pickup and camping trailer rattling down the rocky road – a situation not conducive to getting anywhere near spooky birds.
