[EBB Sightings] Houston, we have a fledge

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The kids are leaving their nests in droves. Yesterday, as I packed up my
car to drive to Huckleberry Preserve, an accipitor flew into my
neighbor's liquid amber tree. Abandoning my belongings on the lawn, I
snatched up my binocs and followed the screeching pack of passerines.
Standing under the tree in which the bird had disappeared, I flushed a
Cooper's hawk. It flew to perch upon the power wires crossing the
street. It was a fledgling Cooper's hawk, both fierce and innocent, and
I stared into its yellow iris until my neck cricked. A flock of linnets,
robins and a lone hooded oriole provided the avian version of a
"neighborhood watch". It finally flew up the street, pursued by its
tormentors. Talk about no rest for the wicked!
 
Gathering my belongings, I drove to my beloved Huck. Three quarters of
the way along the Huckleberry Loop Trail, deep in the Bay forest, I
heard the unmistakable sounds of a begging accipitor. I stopped and
searched. Sure enough, there was another fledgling Cooper's hawk. In
hopes of seeing the parents fly in, I paused along the trail. The young
hawk was yellow-eyed, brown-backed, and spotted and streaked on its
breast. But wait, was that another "whiner" in the canyon? The sounds
grew closer, then a second fledgling hove into view, joining its
sibling. This hawk had a beautiful, dark, slate-gray back, but it wasn't
an adult. My clues to its age were its vocalizations (like for all kids,
whiners are SO annoying!), and the fact that it was still so
fresh-from-the-nest clumsy that it was tripping over its own wing!
Again, I watched until my neck cricked, but was unable to wait around
long enough to see the parents.
 
Returning home, the pair of mourning dove chicks in the nest outside our
picture window was still present, fully feathered, but somewhat unkempt,
with spiky, still-emerging contour feathers. Realizing that they
wouldn't be around for long (they hatched on July 1), I grabbed my
digital camera, and took a picture through the glass. Good thing, too.
When I rose this morning, their nest was empty. Hopefully, they had a
successful fledge, and weren't picked off by the neighborhood Coopers.
It's a jungle out there.
 
Debbie Viess
Oakland
            

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color=3Dnavy
face=3D"Times New Roman">The =
kids are
leaving their nests in droves. Yesterday, as I packed up my car to drive =
to Huckleberry
Preserve, an accipitor flew into my =
neighbor’s
liquid amber tree. Abandoning my belongings on the lawn, I snatched up =
my binocs and followed the screeching pack of =
passerines. Standing
under the tree in which the bird had disappeared, I flushed a =
Cooper’s
hawk. It flew to perch upon the power wires crossing the street. It was =
a
fledgling Cooper’s hawk, both fierce and innocent, and I stared =
into its
yellow iris until my neck cricked. A flock of linnets, robins and a lone =
hooded
oriole provided the avian version of a “neighborhood watch”. =
It
finally flew up the street, pursued by its tormentors. Talk about no =
rest for
the wicked!


color=3Dnavy
face=3D"Times New Roman"> 
=


color=3Dnavy
face=3D"Times New Roman">Gathering my
belongings, I drove to my beloved Huck. Three quarters of the way along =
the Huckleberry
Loop Trail, deep in the Bay forest, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a
begging accipitor. I stopped and searched. =
Sure
enough, there was another fledgling Cooper’s hawk. In hopes of =
seeing the
parents fly in, I paused along the trail. The young hawk was =
yellow-eyed, brown-backed,
and spotted and streaked on its breast. But wait, was
that another “whiner” in the canyon? The sounds grew closer, =
class=3DGramE>then a second fledgling hove into view, joining its =
sibling.
This hawk had a beautiful, dark, slate-gray back, but it wasn’t an =
adult.
My clues to its age were its vocalizations (like for all kids, whiners =
are SO
annoying!), and the fact that it was still so fresh-from-the-nest clumsy =
that it
was tripping over its own wing! Again, I watched until my neck cricked, =
but was
unable to wait around long enough to see the =
parents.


color=3Dnavy
face=3D"Times New Roman"> 
=


color=3Dnavy
face=3D"Times New Roman">Returning
home, the pair of mourning dove chicks in the nest outside our picture =
window was
still present, fully feathered, but somewhat unkempt, with spiky, =
still-emerging
contour feathers. Realizing that they wouldn’t be around for long =
(they
hatched on July 1), I grabbed my digital camera, and took a picture =
through the
glass. Good thing, too. When I rose this morning, their nest was empty.
Hopefully, they had a successful fledge, and weren’t picked off by =
the
neighborhood Coopers. It’s a jungle out =
there.


color=3Dnavy
face=3D"Times New Roman"> 
=


size=3D3
 color=3Dnavy face=3D"Times New Roman">Debbie
 Viess


style=3D'margin-left:.5in'>Oakland


style=3D'font-size:
10.0pt;font-family:Arial;color:navy'>       &nbs=
p;   







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