His strident one note call resounded across the paddock, to be answered by her equally raucuous cackle.
Alistair was bringing in an offering snack for Cassia, of Cinnamon.
They met in a treeline about 800m from where I was and I missed the noisy food exchange, but did see Alistair fly out and land in the open on an old tree.
After a suitable meal time, Cassia, swung out to land in the same tree.
Interesting.
As she prepares for her nesting period, he needs to make sure she is quite well topped up to last the nearly 8 weeks of confinement when she won’t hunt for herself and relies on his constant attention.
It’s a little early for any eggs to be laid, based on previous seasons, I’d expect that to happen toward the end of September, (but who knows with Falcons).
Browns don’t build nests, they are quite the environmenally aware creatures and chose to repurpose a Magpies nest from a previous season. Maggies, don’t tend to use the same nest, preferring to purpose build. So it’s not as though the Falcons have to eject any unwanted sqautters.
With other things to do in the morning, mostly because of a strong offshore breeze bringing some Gannets in close enough for a reasonable photo, we didn’t pursue the happy couple.
On the way back from the beach, we detoured through the pine-tree-line, in case they were sitting.
Foolishly I rounded a tree and without looking stumbled on to Cassia perched down low. She bolted. I castigated myself for being so clumsy.
She quickly regained composure and sat in a tree about 50m away. And watched. And I watched.
Alistair came in quickly on the wind, turned and landed on the branch just above her, and watched. She watched. I watched.
A quick wing flap and Cassia landed near him, but on the highest open branch. And watched.
Then after a typical Falcon TIme Wait, she crouched over, and called him, encouraging him to mate.
Alistair, it has to be said, did not need much time to consider the offer.
Turning into the wind, he lightly took off, ever so gently landed on top of her bent over back, and the process of pro-creation began.
He then lifted wings and again ever so gently lifted off and away.
She relocated to another tree deeper in the pine tree line and we left them to carry on.
Enjoy
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 