Flight: Act 3

I have seen the mornin' burnin' golden on the mountain in the skies
Achin' with the feelin' of the freedom of a falcon when she flies
Kris Kristofferson

The timing of the flight of the young Brown Falcons was always going to be a bit hard to predict, and based on previous experiences, I was unsure where the young would be shepherded off to.

As I walked into the area near the nesting tree, I spotted the female on a branch about another 300m down the track. Perhaps she was waiting for a food delivery. I came through the trees and stopped near the nesting site. It was quiet. Very quiet. No sign of the young among the pine tops or branches

After a few minutes the distinctive cry of one of the young came from a treeline off to my right. So, they had moved.
A bit of relocation through the undergrowth and I came to a likely tree, and then one of them called again, and way up on a high branch, there it sat, with what seemed to be the remains of a Silver Gull. More searching through the tree and higher up, there was the second one.
They didn’t seem to be in a hurry to move about, but at least they were now fledged.
I left them in peace.

The following morning, was one of those great photo days, the sun just appearing over the horizon as I left home, and a beautiful blue sky.

A quick look around the nesting tree and the other tree where I’d seen them the day before, and… no sign. But it wasn’t long before I heard a young cackling call from down near the area I’d seen the female the day before.
Yes, they had moved about 500m though the trees. One of them was on the ground when I came around the treeline. It seemed completely un-fussed by my presence and just kept walking over the mound of bark mulch.
I kept a respectable distance back and waited. The other bird was sitting on a large pile of old logs in the sunshine. They were in no hurry, nor I so I pulled out a morning cuppa and waited to see what might occur.
Two bike riders passed by on the track nearby and I’m sure they didn’t see the little Falcon not more than about 10m from the track. With a radar head-turn it followed them, but again didn’t seem perturbed by their passing.
Somewhat emboldened by that I moved up along the treeline to about 20m from the pair. They were relaxed and so I was able to sit with them for then next 15-20minutes and observe their activities. I guess for them everything is new. So as long as I didn’t make an attempt to get too close they were more interested in all the things around them than my sitting in the grass near a tree.

For the remainder of these postings, I need to set up a working premise.

≠=========≠
Please Note.
Under no circumstances were these birds encouraged, called in, feed, or interfered with.
We are in the open, nearby, no hides, or attempts to 'sneak up' on them.
It is their choice to fly in, Their acceptance is their choice.
I was taught by Jon Young, a native American tracker/trainer, to "build connections"with birds.
Each encounter was at the discretion of the bird.

We are beginning to build a treaty. They have said. 'yes', I am ready to move away if they stress.
No Photo is worth Stressing a Bird

I've said before on the blog, "If a bird flys, for any reason, because of my actions, then I consider the treaty has been broken, and I'll make every effort to not repeat that mistake."
i need to put this upfront, because as time progresses, and their skill level increases we were invited to share some significant moments with these two.

Then There were Two: Act Two

The average sitting time for a Brown Falcon is around four weeks. It takes about another four weeks for the young to grow sufficiently to move about.

I had no idea, other than a wild guess, as to when she first laid and began the business of incubating the eggs, so a number of visits over the the weeks didn’t reveal any activity.
I also only had, at best, a vague understanding of where the nest was, high up, in the Umbrella pine. I also had no effort to get closer, or ‘sneak up’ on her. So distance work with my binos was the order of the day(s).

In the end, I had narrowed down the area to one small ‘umbrella’ that she chose to approach by landing in the neighbouring tree, then hopping on to a close branch, then slipping to the nest tree, and disappearing among the twisted branches of the pine, and… was gone.

One morning, as I went past, finally I heard the whimpering cries of the young ones calling for attention. Not particularly loud, so they still had a way to go.
A few days passed to the next visit, and there they were. Two young Falcons. Now ‘branchers’ Moving about on the top of the pine, still covered in patches of down, and preparing their wings for the big job ahead.

On the next visit, they were both on the move about the tree. One, seemed just that bit more adventurous, and on the day I was there it had managed to scramble through nest tree and climb on to a branch from the next tree that had grown into the first tree. It skipped along the branch, still not ready to fly but certainly on the move.

It arrived at the far end of the second tree. Foiled.
There was a 15-20m gap to the next tree. It sat on the highest clump of pine and gazed down at all the activity below. The Finches and Silvereyes were busy feeding their own young from the grasses and bushes on the ground level.

Next time I visited both birds were hard at work on wing practice.
On the day, there was a stiff wind blowing and as they flapped and ‘wind surfaced’ while clinging on to the pine needles they would raise up and down like kids on a trampoline.


It wouldn’t be long before they left the home tree and made it out into the big world.

Enjoy

Two, ready to take on the world

Eager to get going. Lots of wing practice
Holding on to the pine needles that acted like a spring, the little bird rose up
and down in the breeze
It was able to spread out the wings and use the breeze
to exercise the feather control
After all that exercise, a snooze in the sunshine until lunch arrived
It looks like a flight, but its only jumping from one spot to another.
Meet the Explorer. The branch connects two trees together
and gave it some extra area to explore
At the end of the tree, there was nowhere else to go
Foiled. All it could do was look down and wonder what the little birds below were doing
Waiting for the next food delivery

Raising Brown Falcons: Act One

As those that follow my Flickr photostream will know, this series has been quite awhile getting to ‘publish’ on this Blog.

For a number of years we had the good fortune to work with a pair of Brown Falcon that were domicile in our nearby coastal park. The female in particular became quite tolerant of my presence and we managed to follow several of her clutches. Unfortunately several years back an unfortunate incident occurred and she lost the three fledglings. (Through no fault of her own I must add)
She stayed in the area for a little while, but then departed and I’ve never had the pleasure of working with her since.

Mid of 2025, just as EE was getting ready to attend clinic to fix her ‘fetlock’, I’d noted first one, and then a second Falcon patrolling the nearby paddocks. It didn’t take long to see some fancy team flying techniques, and then he began to turn up with several snake dinners, and amid all the girlish cackling, she must have said in her most polite Brown Falconese, “I Do.”

Then, they seemed to disappear and as EE was now incapacitated our trips out to see what might eventuate dwindled.

One morning I found them sitting together on top of an “umbrella pine”- or parasol pine. A little guessective work and I concluded that he had just provided a meal, And she flew, off behind some trees and out of sight. 😦
I followed along the tree line but she had vanished. But the next bit you can work out —Leaves tree, flys south. Disappears, she must be working on the south side of the tree line.
Next visit.
Suitably equipped with camera and thermos of Earl of Grey’s finest I sat down under a tree to wait. Got distracted badly by a local Collared Sparrowhawk that had also set up nest in the area—but that is another story. Ticky-tocky ticky tocky, time passes. Suddenly she is on top of a tree about 300m down the line. And then off in the far distance the male calling as he comes in. Another snake. She departed to a tree to feed, and again disappeared, but I was getting closer.
Next visit.
I waited on the far side of the treeline, and again, time passed, and then he appeared with yet another snake. (this bird is building an impressive record) She finished the meal and then flew directly to the top of an umbrella pine and disappeared.

Now I was certain of the tree, but… whereabouts was the nest…

Here’s some of the first couple of months.

Early in the season he set out to win her heart with an appropriate offering.
One morning I found them just after he had been in with refreshments
Snake was the meal of choice
Rather liked his casual approach
She seemed to have several perches she favoured. The dark shape behind is
the male leaving
Back to the job in hand
Another day, another meal. I knew he was coming, but somehow he slipped
in behind the tree and caught me by surprise.
By now I was certain she had a clutch on the way
Her brood needed extra food and she had a ready supply of field birds it seems
A hunting she must go
The aggressive next door neighbour. They held regular battles over flyway territory

Enjoy
Act #2 is not far away.

Yo Ho Ho

EE and I had been out in the morning for some important appointment(s)

Being in the area of the local boat harbour, and fancying a coffee, we also had an ulterior motive that we should check to ‘monitor the Great Crested Grebes ‘ that had made the harbour area home at present.

So with coffee in one hand, trusty camera in t’other, (we just happened to have the cameras in IamGrey— who’d have guessed.)

“We should only be a few minutes, and then home for lunch,” we had assured ourselves.

The local sailing school was running lessons in the safety of the harbour, so we didn’t think it would yield many Grebes.
So as the yatchees sailed out, we walked along the boardwalk.
When suddenly, and certainly, to all watching, a huge surprise, some grey shapes rolled out of the water in the harbour and made their way among the boats.
I’m not sure if the kids were squealing with fear, mock fear, or just plain enjoyment.
The pod, at least two young and adults and two or three other adults, were Burrunan dolphins (Tursiops australis), Thanks Eleanor.
Being a protected species, there are certain rules about distances of approach and the like, to protect the creatures, but it seems this pod had not read those regulations and were happy to move among the moored boats in the harbour as well as provide some extra excitement for the kids as they passed close by.
And you can only image how jealous I was of those kids, in a good way.

In the end, my coffee was cold, I’d learned a lot about how ineffective I am at predicting where a dolphin might surface and, well—look at that—over an hour or more had gone by.
What amused me somewhat was a couple of sailor-types on their floating mansion who declared, “Well, we’ve never seen dolphins here, in all the years….” to no one in particular.

Here is just a few from the day.