Yeah, I look up too when I hear birds make a sudden ruckus. I figure they must be onto something, what with being able to fly and look down on it all and stuff like that there.

I’m so jealous.

Kirby the Kestrel must be the name of one of them.

It’s Kirby the Kestrel!! He has been there several different days.

Falcons are always a delight to see. I’ve seen kestrels hovering for minutes before swooping in on an unsuspecting dragonfly or field mouse. I’ve also observed merlins catching smaller birds on the wing.

@Crudely
Whenever I hear a noisy group(murder?)of crows, I look up to see if they’re harassing a hawk or owl. The crows, in turn, are frequesntly divebombed by blackbirds, starlings or other smaller birds.

My eye was caught by what looked like a large bird just going behind that tree there. I had to brake and turn against a contrary camber in the road and by the time I could look skyward again the previous blur had cleared the tree and was banking away from me. It only took on glance at the splayed primaries to identify the blur as Cathartidae and then immediately as turkey buzzard.

(What a name; turkey buzzard! My father used to call some of his friends “old buzzards” in much the same way as one might chide a friend as being a “crazy motherfucker” or an “old fool.” Funny how that works. These days I favor another of his favorite descriptions. Of someone who was championing something with little merit or usefulness he would declare, “You’re riding a colt, son.” If your father was a cowboy you understand.)

Any way, as soon as I had the old buzzard in my sights it made a sharp bank to the right, lost considerable altitude and zipped through the upper branches of a sycamore. This informed me that it was not on a normal seek and eat flight pattern. Sure enough, just as I had to return my attention to a reducing radius downhill left hander I saw a tiny mote emerge from behind the sycamore and accelerate towards the old buzzard.

I squealed the tires a bit under late braking and it took a couple of seconds to locate the buzzard again.For a couple of seconds I had an unobstructed view of its flight pattern; ah! evasive action. Now I know what the tiny mote must be: little bird!

Judging by flight pattern and size I guess it was sparrow. They don’t like any birds larger then they are. Sort of like how some people feel aggressive when some one bigger shows up. It may have been a finch since at a glance its flight patterns are similar to sparrows’. No matter had it been a common blackbird, a red-wing, a grackle. Little ones swoop and peck; big ones cruise and dodge.

For years I’ve watched this kind of aerial encounter where the little ones harass the big ones and have long nurtured the idea that the big ones, the buzzards and hawks and ravens, don’t mind it so much. Something in their flight patterns shows restraint and tolerance even as they twist and dive away from the sharp beaks of their tiny tormentors. That attitude is honorable, I think. Also practical. So is the attitude of the little birds, who feel act in protection of their territory and their young.

On the other hand, the story of the Kestrel and the Moth just goes to show who’s really the boss, even if both parties are well mannered or not. Fly, bird, or die. Fly, moth, or die. To all, eat! and in your turn, be eaten.

Your nature post are frequently inspiring, nostalgic even, Greg. Thanks.

NS