I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
Wind Hover: Gerard Manley Hopkins
Life for recently fledged Brown Falcons is almost a laid-back affair.
Sit
Wait
Accept food
Sit.
For their first few days on the wing the young ones chose to work from a stack of old logs. It provided shelter, some softer pine-needles to rest on, and the security of a sheltered position.
Mum, would on schedule bring in top up snacks, mostly in the form of snake. I had never realised how many snakes must be in the surrounding paddocks, but the male, (I named him Ophiuchus, after the Greek mythological “Snake Handler”), seemed to have not problems finding them, and in decent size.
Rabbits, and young ground birds, perhaps Brown Quail, and Pipits also were on the list. The female would also bring in the occasional mouse.
What was interesting to note, was as the days went on, the food supply slowly dropped off. The young would now have to learn one of their big lessons. Ground Hunting.
Enjoy.
I named them “Max and Mary”. The female-on the right-is the one with the really dark ‘tear’ stain behind her eye. Max has much more bare blue skin at the rear and only a small ‘tear’ mark.
There was little competion between the young, each seemed to know whose turn it was, and the crying and wing-flapping were more to attract attention, than demanding.
By now they were so relaxed that they were unconcerned by our presence.
For a larger view, click on the photo.
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 