Fledge Watch with a bit of Talon Tag

Hazy gray skies kept the photography pretty basic and the quality poor, but I did get some shots of some of the juveniles flying around the tower today. Here's one we identified as Skye. Her transmitter's not visible in this picture, but it was obvious in our binoculars:


Given some of the recent comments about Mariah's supposed absence, we were paying special attention to the adults today. We're pretty sure this was Mariah, flying around the area shortly before she headed south, then went high up and headed to the northeast for some hunting:


Kaver came in too, and dropped off some food, which spurred at least three juveniles into flight. I shot a short (11 second) and somewhat jumpy video clip (400kb) of two of them enjoying a light game of talon tag:


Here's a landing shot following another short flight:


And finally, a pair of fledglings on the 19^th floor railing:


Well, that's about it for the day. I had a meeting at 1:00 PM, so I couldn't stay outside very long, and as you can see, the weather was hardly conducive to good photography. I hope for better weather and photographs in the coming days.

Let Freedom Ring!

Now that Kodak has published the official Freedom album, I thought I'd provide another look at the experience. For those who don't know, Freedom is the male from Mariah's first clutch with Kaver in 2002. Freedom and his "sister" Isis (we think now that Isis was actually a male, based on the fact that they were both nearly identical in size) were the only two chicks to hatch from the 4 eggs that Mariah laid that year. Freedom was the bold one, fledging first and flying around town early. We always hoped for great things from Freedom, so we were really glad to find out that he had been spotted.

Mark Nash of the Canadian Peregrine Foundation invited Fal-Kenn Martinez to attend the banding of some peregrine chicks at the Sheraton hotel in downtown Toronto, and Kenn asked if I'd like to go. So, along with Tom Hoehn/Cornpoppy and Lisa McKeown (who represented Genesee Valley Audubon Society), we spent a day peregrinating through southern Ontario province in Canada. I'll post more about the Toronto banding and our visit to the Canadian Peregrine Foundation separately, but for me, the highlight was getting to see Freedom and his family at close range. For that, I have to thank Tom Hoehn, who worked the phones in the days leading up to the trip in order to get the visit arranged.

We arrived late in the afternoon, at an industrial facility on the north shore of Lake Erie. The facility's managers are very enthusiatic about hosting Freedom's family, and they were only too happy to show us around the place, but for now their wish is to keep the specific location and nature of the facility confidential. We had hardly been introduced to Rolf and Doug, our guides, when Freedom put in the first of several appearances, and what an appearance it was! No sooner had he landed, than an American Kestrel began strafing him:


Freedom endured the Kestrel's taunting with admirable aplomb, but after a few passes, he'd had enough. He took off over the water and we lost him behind some buildings. In exchange, we found the rest of the family in the nearby airspace. Here's Purity, Freedom's mate, in the only flying shot of her that I was able to take. The late afternoon light, haze, and her speedy flight contributed to a difficult shot, and she spent most of our visit out hunting or perched on a far off building, so this was the best I could do, unfortunately:


After that, we went into the facility for the trip up to the nest box area. Like most industrial complexes, it was hot and dusty, and the fact that we needed to wear protective equipment including hard hats, safety glasses, and even filter masks made it the going uncomfortable at times. An elevator took us to the sixth floor, but there were 6 more to go, all on foot. Since each floor is between 10 and 20 feet high, we had a lot of climbing to do! Before we started, though, we found that Freedom had returned, perched on a fire escape just below us. Kenn and I had to shoot through a metal floor grate to see him, but the results were worthwhile:


Needless to say, I took as many pictures as I could, since it's likely I'll never get another chance to see him at such close range. I was really struck by how much he seems to have inherited a perfect blending of looks from both his parents. He has Kaver's snowy breast, dark, full hood and malar stripes, but also Mariah's characteristic white supracereal stripe (the one above her bill between her eyes). He also has Mariah's voice, and something of her personality. He wasn't at all intimidated by our presence, and though he wasn't aggressive, I imagine he might have been had his children been nearby rather than out flying.

After we took our fill of pictures we dusted ourselves off, and continued up the interior stairwell to the top floor of the facility where our guides showed us the generously sized nestbox. It was almost five feet wide, and I joked to Tom that given our recent run of large clutches at Kodak, we could use a similarly roomy one in Rochester. Clever barn-style doors at the back make it easy to remove the eyases, as well as to clean and maintain the nestbox. At the front, a sliding door can be dropped from above to close off access to the box from the outside. This makes it very safe when it comes time to remove the eyases, since the young falcons can't fall or jump out with the outer door closed, and aggressive parents are kept safely outside. It's an efficient arrangement that would be nice to have at Kodak. Here's a look out of the nestbox from the back:

In this shot you can see the metal grate that covered the entire floor. Directly below us was a variety of machinery including cranes and other lifting equipment that has been decommissioned for several years, allowing a secluded spot for the nest site, away from activity. The steel girders below the nesting site had been the place where Purity laid her eggs. Recognizing the danger in having eggs laid in the open on what amounted to a very narrow ledge, exposed to stiff lake winds, Mark Nash worked with the owners of the facility and the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources to get the nest box installed late last year. Purity laid four eggs out on those girders, but only 2 hatched. Mark Nash theorizes that the lack of good drainage and exposure to the elements might have been responsible for the two eggs not hatching. Had they been laid in the nestbox, perhaps the outcome would have been different. In any event, it wasn't until the eyases were several days old that Mark moved them into the nest box, from where they successfully fledged only a few weeks ago. We were all amazed to see the precarious position of the old nest site one floor below us, and we're very grateful to Mark and the people at the facility for helping to ensure the welfare of these falcons.

Freedom made another appearance while we were admiring the nestbox design, and I shot several pictures of him through the grating:

If you look closely at the background of the first shot, you'll see the faint interference pattern caused by the grate. In the second, the workers pulled back a corner of the grate and I got down on my belly to shoot through the small gap. He has a very Kaver-esque expression in that second shot, I think.

We headed outside again, where we found both of Freedom's children, Ellie and Millie, engaged in a spirited game of talon tag:


As you can see, they are both able flyers! After watching them fly, we were pleasantly amazed when they landed on the corner of a nearby rooftop! Shutters clicked madly as they perched:


During their visit, Purity remained perched on a building farther out:

I guess Mariah's not the only one who gets fluffed up in the wind!

Freedom hung around too, though he seemed almost bored by our presence:


Before we left, our hosts showed us the spit of land with hundreds of nesting gulls:

The opposite side of the waterway is where Millie got into trouble on her maiden fledging flight by stumbling into a similar group of seabirds. Seeing that, it's little wonder that poor Millie ended up in the lake! Fortunately, there were plenty of workers out watching her flight, and Rolf and Doug quickly entered the water to retrieve her. They said she was very nearly drowned, and their quick action likely averted a real tragedy. Mark Nash checked her out on 24 June, just before he arrived for Skye's transmitter fitting. He pronounced her wet, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

It was with great reluctance that we left the facility. My fellow birder (and in many ways a mentor) Siobhan recently remarked to me that reproduction is the surest measure of success. By this measure, Freedom has been successful indeed, and so have Mariah and Kaver. Seeing Freedom with his thriving family was a unique and moving experience, one I'll always treasure. I wish Freedom, Purity and all their children many years of good fortune.

I want to leave you with a special treat. While I was photographing Freedom on the fire escape, I took a moment to switch to video mode. The results exceeded my expectations, even compressed down to 1.1MB (from its original size nearly 8 times larger!)


What could be better than that?

Fledge Watch: Made in the Shade

It was much too hot and humid for sustained flying today, and the noon hour found most of the fledglings sticking close to the Kodak tower. Recognizing that there would be little flying, and needing to stick close to the office (I was on duty with the Medical Emergency Response Team today), I decided to try my luck from the roof of Building 10. This 9-story building lies north of the Kodak tower, and its position provides a good, if somewhat obstructed view of the tower. It's biggest drawback is the near total lack of any place to get out of the sun and the 90°F/23°C heat. Nonetheless, I armed myself with a cold drink and went out. Predictably, the eyases were pretty sedentary, which afforded me the opportunity to photograph them at my leisure. I think this is Fulmine:


A pair of fledglings snoozed on the 17^th floor ledge of the Philadelphia tower, an enclosed fire escape attached to the northwest side of the Kodak tower:


Cornpoppy had photographed Esperanza and Aconcagua near this location earlier today. Could this be them? Neither one presented a leg band for identification, so I couldn't tell. No matter, though; there were plenty of other subjects to keep me busy. I stumbled across this bleached skeleton as I was exploring the different areas of the roof:

There were a couple of other carcasses nearby, and one looked very much like a gull. We've never seen Mariah or Kaver go after gulls-- mostly the Peregrines just ignore them. We've always assumed the gulls were too big to bother with, but from the leavings on the roof, it appears that we may need to revise our notion of Mariah and Kaver's prey choices.

On one of the few flights of the hour, Skye showed up, after flying low over the roof. She landed on the 19^th floor stone railing:

Later, she moved down to the catwalk behind that railing, then poked her head out between the scalloped wall:


This falcon also made a short flight. Through my binoculars I was able to identify it as Aconcagua:


I had only an hour to watch, and that was drawing to a close. I had just enough time to get one more shot of Fulmine, and then I had to head inside:


The weather is supposed to ameliorate over the next few days, with lower temperatures, but also a daily chance of rain in the latter part of the week. The fledglings won't be using the Kodak Tower as a home base for much longer, so I'll have to get out there again as soon as I can for more watching and pictures. Now that I know my way around up there, perhaps I'll bring my scope on the next trip.

Fledglings' Flying Improves

Hang on to your hats, gentle readers. We have a lot of ground to cover.

The fledglings all seem to be flying very well, but the proof is in the pudding, as they say. Here at Lord Garavin's Bird Blog, the pudding is made of silicon and complimentary metal oxides, and instead of an oven, my pudding lies in a Kodak DX6490 digital camera. In fact, I've got so much pudding for this entry that I'm going to keep the exposition to a minimum. If you're not big on metaphor, don't worry. You'll see what I mean soon.

There was a lot of flying early on, including a game of talon tag, with as many as three juveniles joining in:
          

After Skye's transmitter fitting, I was anxious to see how she was flying. As you can see from these pictures, her wings appear to be working quite well:
     

And here she is shortly after flying over to the northern smokestack to join one of her siblings:


Meanwhile, the remaining fledgling from the talon tag triumvirate landed on the "D" in the KODAK sign:


Kaver and Mariah spent a lot of time in the air this morning, coaxing the fledglings into the air:
          

Here's Mariah preparing some food while two fledglings look on from above and below her:

This shot gives a good indication of typical perches for the eyases. Experienced watchers learn the intricacies of the Kodak tower's rich architecture, so that the small form of a perched falcon becomes easier to spot. Here's another juvenile, shortly after she landed on the southwest "crown", the ornate corner blocks at the 20^th floor:


During a break in shooting the falcons, this avian traveler passed over the Kodak tower. Another watcher thought it might be a cormorant. I'm no good with waterfowl, but here's the picture:

Want to offer an ID? E-mail me or leave a comment!

I went up onto the roof of the Kodak office complex to see if I could get some closer shots. Here's another flight by a juvenile. Unfortunately, I panned a bit too fast in the first shot, and the subject is not as sharp as I would have liked:
     

Mariah flew low over the roof of Building 9, where I was standing:


It was just about this time that Shaky broadcast that he'd found a fledgling on the ground at BeeBee station. It seemed that he'd been knocked down the stack by one of his siblings during a landing attempt at the top of the northern smokestack. By the time I got down off the roof and out to the station, he'd identified Fulmine, and the tiercel was already working his way up and out of his predicament:
     
(That's him flying behind the tree)

Here's a burst sequence showing a fledgling landing on top of the northern stack. You can see how much their breaking and landing skills have improved:
          

          

We're all very pleased with the progress of these fledglings. All of them appear to be flying well, and it seems that they may have passed the most dangerous phase of their transition to flight, though that's no reason for us to become complacent, so I'll keep watching and reporting while the fledglings continue honing their aerial skills.

Skye Gets a Transmitter!

Friday the 24^th of June was filled with excitement-- Not from flying fledglings, but rather from plans hastily made and executed, coordinating the movements of an international team of actors, some coming from hundreds of miles away, all for the benefit of one small falcon, which it is hoped, will carry on the rich legacy of her siblings. Skye had been cleared for release!

Through Kodak's environmental fund, the New York State Dept. of Environmental Conservation had recently obtained a satellite transmitter. They had been working with Kodak and the Genesee Valley Audubon Society on a plan to fit it to one of this year's eyases. That is, until June 13, when 2 of them unceremoniously fell out of the nestbox. Unwilling to risk endangering the 2 eyases in the playpen by going out to extract a falcon from the nestbox for a transmitter, we had resigned ourselves to waiting until 2006 for the opportunity. So Skye's recent misadventure and her subsequent recovery from a Kodak employee parking lot the following morning, actually rekindled our hopes of getting a transmitter on one of this year's falcons. Timing was an issue though, and time was very definitely against us. Birdcam manager and B.A.R.T. founder Cornpoppy worked the phones without surcease for two days. He tracked down the DEC's Mike Allen, and he was able to schedule Mark Nash of the Canadian Peregrine Foundation to arrive on Friday afternoon for the fitting. He also reserved a conference room-- more comfortable accommodations by far than we had for Hafoc's fitting-- and even ordered pizza for those of us who attended the event.

Unfortunately Mark was delayed at the Canadian-American border crossing due to road construction and weekend traffic, and he arrived three hours past his scheduled time. We had nearly decided simply to release Skye without fitting the transmitter when watchers out in the Kodak visitor parking lot radioed to let us know he'd arrived. Much cheering, applause and adoration greeted Mark on his arrival. He took a few minutes to recover from his long motorcycle ride in 90+ degree weather, and then he came up to the conference room. It was then that he let us know that Mike Allen would be performing the actual fitting, under Mark's tutelage. They got to work setting out the equipment for the fitting:
          

Then, Ellen Post of Wild Wings brought in Skye's carrier. Here she is with Mark:


They got right to work, with Mark guiding Mike through each step of the fitting process. Here, they've slipped a falconer's hood over Skye's head to keep her calm, and Mike is preparing to position the neoprene harness:


There were about a dozen spectators in the room, including many people Kodak.com and Kodak's marketing department. A very special guest was >Mary Ann Giglio, the executive assistant who in 1998 discovered that the nestbox installed on the Kodak tower was actually being used. Mary Ann has been a tireless advocate of the Birdcam, and in 2000 one of Mariah and Cabot-Sirocco's offspring was named in her honor. A photographer from the local newspaper also attended, and there were plenty of people recording the event with their cameras. Mark interspersed his instructions to Mike with plenty of anecdotes, which kept us entertained during the fitting:


While they're adjusting the fit of the harness, medical clamps called hemostats are used in lieu of stitches to hold the ends of the harness closed around the transmitter's mounting posts:


Fitting the harness correctly is all-important. It must be loose enough to allow total freedom of movement for the peregrine, but snug enough so that it won't interfere with flying or other activities. Only when both fitters were satisfied with the fit was the harness stitched closed. Here, Mike turns tailor, sewing the harness straps together with a curved suture needle and waxed dental floss:


Here's a look at Skye's lethal talons, the tools of her hunting trade:

Mark told us that by holding them to the rear, parallel with her tail, she was unable to use them to grasp at anything. This eliminated the possibility of injury to bystanders, fitters, or the falcon.

After they finished, Mike placed Skye on the back of a chair so that she could become acclimated to the new transmitter and harness.
     
Though the transmitter/harness combination weighs under 21 grams, or less than 5% of Skye's body mass, Mark feels it's a good idea to give the falcon time to adjust to it's new gear. By the time he and Mike were finished, several hours had elapsed. Those of us in attendance did our best to minimize any stress on Skye by using hushed voices and avoiding commotion where we could. For her part, Skye seemed to take it all in stride. She was active, but not agitated. She vocalized only once, but it was a good, healthy cry, expressing her displeasure at being inconvenienced. It was a good sign that she was healthy and ready to return to her siblings and parents.

Her release was done in darkness, and with little fanfare. She was returned to her carrier, taken up to the roof of Building 9 just south of the Kodak tower, and there the carrier was left with its door open. Mark tells us that night releases are often best after a fitting, because the falcon will naturally want to go to sleep rather than try flying right away. Indeed, this is what Skye did. Early the next morning, she joined her fellow fledglings up in the playpen, and since then she has shown herself to be a capable flyer, keeping up well with the rest of her family.

Skye follows her older brother Hafoc (though we can hope she will not share his tragic end) in the quest to learn more about the migratory behavior of urban raised falcons. In so doing, she will enrich us in many ways, and enhance not only our understanding, but most especially our appreciation, of one of nature's great marvels, the Peregrine.

Fledging-- Fun, Frenetic, and Frustrating

Well, the past couple of days have brought the first fledging flights of the Kodak Peregrine eyases, and the activity so far has run the adjectival gamut: Exhilarating, anguished, rewarding, fatiguing, heart-stopping. Where to begin...

We watchers have been a busy bunch. Four out of five of the eyases have left the Kodak tower and taken those first tentative flights. Only Aconcagua, the last to hatch, has remained safe in the playpen. Fulmine was the first to go, winging around the Kodak tower in the early hours of June 21:

Thus far, he's taken a measured approach to his flights, choosing relatively short hops, never venturing too far from the Kodak tower. Here he is sitting on a ledge below the eastern side of the "playpen":

His flying has steadily improved. This afternoon watchers spotted him flying and landing amongst the triple smokestacks of the Rochester Gas and Electric BeeBee station in the company of Mariah, who eventually led him back to the Kodak tower, to the cheering accompaniment of the watchers gathered below.

His sisters haven't fared quite as well. True to their mother's bold heritage, Skye, Ihteram, and Esperanza have all made long flights to from the tower to the High Falls stacks, and all three of them have ended up on the ground behind BeeBee station's chain-link fences.

Skye was the first to fledge yesterday, following her brother. Her initial flights in the morning were largely uneventful, and at noon I found her practicing her balancing skills on the roof of the Kodak Office tower:


She finally made it to the apex of the roof:


Her flight out to the High Falls stack was as notable for its audaciousness as for it's worrisome results. She overshot the landing badly, and ended up tumbling down through the unused stack. While we watchers fretted, she calmly walked out of the stack (through a hole cut in the base for just such use), seeming none the worse for wear.


She spent the afternoon and evening of the 21^st making short hops from building to building, eventually landing on the roof of the Kodak Office lobby, where she spent the night. Having gone without food for nearly a day, she blundered through the Kodak Office complex of buildings this morning, and had to be rescued from a perch near a busy road on the west side of Kodak Office this morning. Taken to a local wildlife veterinarian for examination following her capture, she was found to have strained some of her flight muscles, and it seems she'll need to spend a few days at Wild Wings while she regains her strength and recovers from her injury.

Ihteram made her inaugural flight this morning, and somehow ended up in the RG&E pokey as well:


She looks like she's in good shape. According to watcher reports, she spent most of the day hopping around, exploring the area. A couple of times when a feral cat approached, Mariah intervened on her daughter's behalf, strafing and diving on the feline repeatedly until it fled the area. Here's Ihteram channeling her mother's Fierce Look®

She's active and alert, and is most likely just sizing up her options for flying out of the power station's grounds.

Fulmine took a flight out to the smokestacks at lunchtime today:


He nearly stuck the landing on the stack, braking by pulling up and flapping his wings. Instead, he landed on a ladder on the northeast side of the stack. He stayed there for a while then hopped up on top of the smokestack. A few minutes later, he flew back to the Kodak tower and executed a very yeoman-like landing on the playpen railing, again to the cheers of the onlooking watchers.

His sister Esperanza followed him out today, and she headed for the middle smokesatck. Like her brother, she tried to brake and she swooped up to a landing on the lip of the stack, but the wind was gusty today, and in her inexperience, she missed the landing. A search of the smokestack from all angles (including the use of camera 1 to view the top of the stack by the Birdcam Team) turned up no sign of her. it was not until several hours later that I was able to go down to the base of the smokestack, 20 feet (6 meters) below street level, and there we found her, safe and sound, having likely fluttered to the bottom of the stack and walked out under her own power. She found a perch on a large-diameter pipe which is open to the sky and free of obstructions. She is near Ihteram, and like her sibling, she should be able to fly out as soon as she decides that's the thing to do.

So... these early fledgers have taken big steps, full of risk and consequences. We have more watchers than I've ever seen for this first week of wobbly flying. Their dedication to these fledglings is nothing short of outstanding. We arm ourselves with binoculars, notepads, water bottles, cameras and two-way FRS radios (Channel 7, sub-channel 1), the better to maintain our vigilance. The newly flying juveniles are putting us through our paces this year, to be sure. A few more days of uncertainty and watchfulness, and the pace may slacken a bit as the fledglings learn the rudiments of controlled landings. Then we can relax, if only a little, and enjoy the amazing spectacle of Peregrines learning to fly and hunt. For now, we'll continue to watch, and do what we can to help ensure that the fledglings have the best possible chance to graduate into masters of the air, fulfilling their progenitors' rich legacy.

Fledglings? Not Yet

With the reports of possible fledging activity today, I thought I'd get out to see if I could catch any eyases taking their first flights. I didn't see any fledging activity, though there was some flying from Mariah and Kaver, and the eyases were certainly vocal today. I wasn't alone, either. Watchers gathered at the corner of Mill Street and Platt St. to watch the action:


They multiplied as the hour wore on...



The weather most definitely was against me from a photography standpoint:

Heavy grey overcast and low clouds made for flat light with little contrast. The Rochester skyline looked intersting, though:


But back to the falcons. Here's Kaver on the southeast corner of the "launchpad":

I took it this morning after receiving word of the alleged fledge. There was certainly no flying from the eyases, nor any movement on the ledges that I could see, and since all five were accounted for on the various cameras, I suspect the observers at Kodak saw either Mariah or Kaver and mistook them for a newly fledged juvenile.

At lunch, I spotted Skye and Esperanza at the front of the nestbox. One of the others was on the floodlight in the southeast corner of the playpen:


Mariah flew in and landed on the corner of the playpen. As soon as she did, there was a great deal of commotion and vocalizing from the three eyases as they ran to meet her.


As you can see, Esperanza hopped out onto the nestbox's perch rail in her excitement.

A little later, she went up to the corner of the launch pad. Kaver joined her, landing on the steeple:


I did some digiscoping, but the light was so bad that I was shooting at 1/30 sec in a variable wind, so most of my pictures were unacceptably blurry. I managed a couple of shots worth sharing, though. Here's Skye, who kept up a steady complaining when Kaver left his high perch and moved down to the playpen rail in front of the nestbox. Or maybe she's just jealous that her sister Esperanza has made it out onto the perch rail:


I'll say one thing for her-- she's got her mother's good looks:


Skye's cries were clearly audible even over the wind and the distance at which I was shooting. On a whim, I decided to try shooting some video through the scope (would that be vidi-digiscoping)? Turn up the volume and you'll hear Skye squawking at her father, who's just out of camera range to the right:
(35 sec, 1.2MB Quicktime video)
Anyway, you can see how the wind made a steady shot nearly impossible.

The rain started falling right after I took the video, so I packed up my gear and retreated to the warmth and dryness of Kodak office. It looks like we'll have to wait for fledging a little while longer...

Soggy Falcons

It was wet, cold (for June) and windy when I ventured out on to the roof of Building 3 with my scope and camera, hoping for a few shots of Esperanza and Skye, who have been spending more time at the front of the nest box of late. It was gray and dreary out-- not really conducive for good picture taking, and the wind blew the scope around quite a bit. I had to raise the ISO setting on my DX6490 to 100, which introduced some digital noise into the images, but gave me an acceptable shutter speed with a wide open aperture (f3.2).

Mariah was perched, oddly enough, on the D in the KODAK sign:

I took that shot with the camera, just to see what kind of conditions I had to work with. Then I set up the scope.

It's weird what you don't see, sometimes. While aiming at Esperanza and Skye in the nestbox, I completely failed to notice young Fulmine poking his head into the frame (at bottom right), until I examined the pictures I had taken:


Here's a closer look at him, directly beneath his sister:



Then it was back to Mariah, wet and windswept. She obliged me by turning around:



I probably took a dozen shots of her before she took off for a short flight, to the accompaniment of squawking eyases. She landed on the southeast corner of the launchpad, and turned her back on me yet again:


My Kowa TSN-664 scope and Nikon Monarch ATB binoculars are sealed against the elements, but not so my camera. I decided I'd had enough of cold rain gusting into my face, so I returned to the warmth and dryness of the Kodak office after only about 30 minutes of watching. With any luck, the weather will improve over the next few days and I'll be able to get some better shots of the eyases before they leave the nestbox area for good.

Freedom's Return!

The news from Birdman that Freedom had been spotted in southern Ontario couldn't be more exciting, and a welcome counterpoint to the recent sad news of Hafoc's death. What a wonder it is to find that Freedom, Hafoc's brother, is alive and well, and raising eyases of his own!

When I heard the news it immediately brought to mind my own adventure with Freedom. On July 20, 2002, I climbed out on a rickety trestle bridge to within 30 or 40 feet (10 meters) of him, there to shoot several pictures as he perched on a railing of the High Falls brewing company.




Freedom did much to inspire my passion for photographing these amazing, beautiful falcons. To know that he's thriving among our Canadian friends to the north is truly a gift. It makes all the effort and the hundreds of hours spent watching, photographing, and writing about the falcons even more worthwhile. I hope we'll continue to hear more about Freedom's growing family for many years to come.

A New View of Mariah

The 90°F mid-day sun and smothering humidity proved to be little deterrent to getting outside today, though I made it a point to stick to the shadows whenever possible, and to drink plenty of liquids. I was surprised to find Mariah on the northwest corner of the launchpad, an unusual position for her. By her posture, I could tell she was a hot as I:


I set up my scope and scanned the base of the playpen on the south face of the tower, but I saw no sign of Fulmine or Ihteram. I surmised that Mariah might be watching over one or both of them from her perch, and so I started looking for a better angle from which to see the west side of the playpen. The various buildings that comprise the Kodak Office complex are interconnected by a series of walkways on various levels, which allow easy movement between them from within the structure. On the roof, wooden (or more rarely metal) catwalks and stairways serve much the same purpose. From my position atop Building 9, I started hunting for a way west and north. My peregrinations brought me at last to a long stair used to access the cooling towers that provide climate control within the complex. I'd never been up this stair before, or even noticed it, but it looked like it would provide me with a closer view of Mariah, and get me about 20 feet (6 meters) higher than my current position, so up I went. The noise from the cooling towers was thunderous, but the view was substantially improved:


Still, there was no sign of the eyases, even with the improved angle. Truthfully, unless they decided to venture very close to the edge of the playpen, I wasn't likely to see them. I got a few shots of Mariah before she took off, for what proved to be the first of many flights during the hour. Unfortunately, my camera's autofocus seemed very balky today, and many of my shots of Mariah in the air were blurry and unworthy of reproduction. She flew low over my head, which made the camera problems all the more vexing, and then she did something completely unexpected. Mariah landed below me, on the gravel-covered roof!


I was stunned, and it was my unsteady hands rather than the camera that was responsible for the lack of sharpness in that photo. I aimed more carefully as she appeared to pick at something on the rooftop:



Then, in a bizarre display, she spread her wings as if to take off. But rather than launch herself in the air, she prostrated herself like a supplicant, against the white rocks:


I couldn't divine her purpose-- was she cooling herself somehow on the rocks? Scratching an itch? Reliving her youth as a pancaking eyas?

I didn't have much time to ponder her odd pose, because she was up in the air only a few seconds later, where I took more frustratingly blurry shots. After a few overhead passes, she landed on the south side of the launch pad:


It wasn't long before she tired of that perch and relocated to the playpen railing:


My view wasn't so good, so I descended from my own high perch and walked back to my scope. From within the nestbox came the insistent cries of eyases, and Mariah responded by hopping over to see what the ruckus was about:


The white tail feathers of an eyas are visible at the opening of the nestbox in this shot:


Mariah went into the box briefly, then emerged and went back to flying. She passed very close, and I managed a fairly decent shot of her, though the lighting was very difficult, with patches of clear blue sky and hazy grey clouds that made for brightly backlit scenes. I had to enhance the highlights to bring out her details:


On she flew, out over the gorge, then back again, then out once more. This brave (or foolish) potential entree kept stock still as the huntress passed by several times:


Mariah landed again on the broad ledge of the 17^th floor of the tower:

I hope whoever has that office is a falcon fan... What a terrific view!

She was off again before long, though, and this time the camera and lighting cooperated, allowing a few decent shots like this one:


She kept flying, and I'd have kept shooting, but I had an appointment at 1:00, and equipment to pack, so I broke off my watching a bit early. With three eyases now in the playpen, I think Esperanza and Skye are sure to follow soon. We watchers are going to have our work cut out for us this year, for the 2005 brood have already proven themselves to be mobile and adventurous. I'm hoping for an opportunity to photograph them outside of the nestbox in the coming days.

Food Leads to Leaping Eyases

Today, Carol P, Grannywood and I decided to head up to the roof of Bldg 9 before walking out to the bridge. We got out onto the roof shortly before noon to find Mariah perched near the nest box:


She sat for a while, then launched into the air and circled for a bit. We thought perhaps she was going to do some hunting, when she began kacking. In seconds, Kaver had joined her and executed a food transfer. I was so enthralled watching their aerial display that I didn't get my camera up in time to take any pictures of the actual transfer (I think Granny got some, though). I do have a couple after she and Kaver separated. She flew overhead with the prey clutched in her talons:




Kaver landed on the decorative iron lilies that spring from the apex of the steeple on the Kodak tower...


... while Mariah went to what has become her customary feeding spot for this year, the perch on the east side of the nestbox. Well, the eyases must have been really hungry, because we were watching Mariah settle down to feed them, when suddenly a brown shape went tumbling down into the playpen! We gasped, nearly in unison, then realized none of us had been watching through our binoculars. Was it one of the eyases? Some of the prey? A trick of the light in the oppressive mid-day haze?

I unlimbered my cell phone and dialed up Fal-Kenn Martinez to see if he could elucidate for us. Surprisingly, he was in his office (Kenn's a very busy guy), and he swung the camera around, quickly locating an eyas on the ledge directly beneath the nest box. The young falcon appeared to be unharmed according to Kenn, so I thanked him and got back to viewing, never suspecting that two falcons had actually fallen from the nest at the same time. It was only much later, when I returned to my office, that I learned of the second eyas, which had fallen out with the first, and landed on the floor of the "playpen", a catwalk around the steeple that's protected by a wrought iron railing. Thanks to Birdman and the Birdcam team who kept the magnificently flexible Camera 1 trained on the two wayward eyases for much of the afternoon, we learned that it was Fulmine and Ihteram who had taken the unintended plunge. But for the duration of our watch, we believed only one eyas had left the scrape.

An initial moment of alarm soon gave way to recognition that the situation did not call for concern. Aside from some ee-chupping from Mariah (a sound we normally associate with courtship between her and Kaver), she acted unconcerned, continuing to feed the eyases in the nest box. You can see Aconcagua's fluffy white head along with one of his siblings in this feeding shot:


She even flew out to the High Falls stack for a time, before returning to the tower, landing on Camera 1's arm:




Kaver wasn't idle during this time. Rather, he practiced his hunting skills, taking off from the lilies at least three times to harass the resident American Kestrel female in a maneuver we've come to call a "Kestrel Run" (it reminds me of the "Kessel Run", made famous by another raptor, the Millenium Falcon from Star Wars). On each run, he'd launch himself from the tower at speed and go immediately into a shallow dive, wings tucked halfway in to dump some altitude. Then near the northern smokestack he'd go into a full power dive, swooping down and slingshotting back up in a reverse parabolic arc that's a true thing of beauty to observe. At the apogee of his flight he'd roll back toward the Kodak tower, wings pumping, and land again on the lily.

On his third attack run, I saw him make contact with the Kestrel (or miss by mere inches). He made a low pass by us before returning to his post:



After that, Mariah and Kaver settled in. Looking west we saw a great bank of dense gray clouds approaching. Heavy thunderstorms had been forecast, so we decided to go down to the Pont de Rennes pedestrian bridge to let our fellow watchers know what had transpired at the nest box. We found Shaky, Lisa McKeown, and Dan Stiehler there, and we related our tale, then headed back toward Kodak in the face of the approaching storm. We were caught out, though, and we were obliged to take shelter beneath the outdoor dining deck of Jimmy Mac's. We were tempted to take lunch there while the thunder shook like a cannon battery and bolts of lightning stabbed the air. In fifteen minutes, though, the torrent slackened, and so we made our hasty way back to Kodak to resume our afternoon work schedules.

Falcons and Falcons (and a Woodpecker or two)

With the US Air Force Thunderbirds in town for this weekend's Air Show, and Mariah and Kaver sticking close to the shade and doing little flying today, I thought it'd be neat to see how the two kinds of falcon-- Peregrine and F-16C stack up against each other.

Here's Mariah from the evening of the Fledge Watch meeting on June 7, going inverted (apparently with prey):

And here's a Kaver fly-by:


There was no inverted flying from the Air Force jet jocks this afternoon, but they did do some nice formation work:


You can see how hazy it was today, btw.

Mariah made several passes by the Kodak Tower...




...and so did the F-16 (I shot this sequence in burst mode):




Mariah gave us a farewell pass, then headed for the tower:



The F-16 returned to the airport in much the same fashion:


Well, that was fun (for a spree)! Tomorrow the Thunderbirds are supposed to undertake a couple of practice runs; one around the lunch hour, and another later in the afternoon. They should provide an interesting diversion for the falcon fans during what's sure to be another sultry, peregrine-poor day.

---

We continue to see the Pileated Woodpeckers (Dryocopus pileatus) in our front yard. Here are a couple who showed up recently.

An adult female visits the suet feeder:


Here's a male who showed up on a silver maple tree this afternoon. Because of the shadows and overcast, I could only shoot at 1/30^th sec, so the shot is a little blurry, but you can see that he has turned his head with his eye on the feeder even though he's still clinging to the tree:


I could watch those woodpeckers all day, if they'd stick around, but this guy had places to go. He ate only a small meal, then flew across the road and out of sight. I'm pretty sure I'll see him again before too long, though...

On the Passing of Hafoc

My boy, the falcon I named Hafoc, is gone.

I just heard the news that Hafoc's body was recently retrieved by Mike Allen of the NY Dept. of Envirnomental Conservation. I want to thank Mike, the DEC, and everyone involved in his recovery for their efforts. I also wish to extend my sincerest thanks to the Linda, Marcel, and Leslie at the Migration Research Foundation for their wonderful efforts both in raising funds for Hafoc's transmitter and for all the work they did to track his wanderings and to bring them to all of us. Special thanks also to June Summers and the Genesee Valley Audubon Society for their fundraising role, and to all those whose donations of time, money and enthusiasm made it possible for us to follow Hafoc's travels, if only for a little while.


I suspected the worst when word came that his signal had gone missing. Hafoc, that plucky tiercel, was fond of bringing down those big pigeons, and too many sightings had put him close to well-trafficked areas. He led a dangerous, glorious life. Linda Boutwell and I traded some messages in the early days of March, and it seemed pretty certain that the most likely explanation for the disappearance of his signal was that he'd met with an unfortunate end. So to finally hear that his body has been recovered is satisfying in its way. It provides certainty where none existed before. Knowing his fate, unhappy though it is, provides some solace.



He was daring from his earliest days. The brightest lights often burn the swiftest, and Hafoc's flame was bright indeed. From his first fledge, he mastered flight with a speed and deftness I had not witnessed in my short falcon-watching experience. He seemed not only to lead his siblings into the sky, but also perhaps to watch over them. Certainly he was there in Alkyonis' hour of need, standing in the tangled ruin of BeeBee station, gazing down upon his sister, pointing the way for us to rescue her, whether he was aware of his savior's role or not.


Not as brash as his big sister Pride, he stood out nonetheless to my eye, in endless chases with his nestmates around the gorge, effortless flights through the azure and magenta skies of early July mornings, even in a quiet nap nestled on the honey-hued ledge of a Kodak office window. I saw up close the fierceness, the single-minded drive in his little falcon's body, and the deadly efficiency that marks his kind as he snared a meal, plucking it from the air with those obsidian daggers, silencing its cries with swift indifference. It is the birthright of falcons, breathtaking to behold, and a sight I'll forever cherish.




When Kodak invited me to submit a name for one of the eyases from Mariah and Kaver's 2004 clutch, I had no idea that it would go to a falcon who would bring us so many moments of excitement and awe. During his transmitter fitting, I had the opportunity to touch his soft feathers. At that moment, I was overwhelmed by the thought that so delicate a body could be harnessed to such an indomitable quintessence. It is a marvel to me now, and I'll be forever reminded of him whenever I see his siblings tearing through the air. I'm saddened by the news of his death, but proud and honored to have played a part, however insignificant, in his brief, bold life. If falcons know joy, then I think Hafoc had his full measure in his short time here, and I imagine he'll continue on, if only in spirit, harrassing his prey in whatever happy hunting ground lies beyond this fleshy realm.



Fair skies and good hunting, my friend.