Tag: Brown Falcon

I started this series with a quote from Jon Young from What the Robin Knows.
Thought it was fitting to use another quote for the last of the series

Jon Young says, “There is nothing random about a bird’s awareness and behaviour. They have too much at stake…. Being tuned into the tapestry…. we are venturing into a realm of awareness, and intention and curiosity. I’ve had some magical experiences in the natural world, and some of them have involved birds.”

In a previous blog post from 2019, I wrote:

Browns, broach no interference in this serious business of nesting. Standing around (with a camera) in their work space is not taken kindly. So having worked out where she had settled and where the action was taking place, I’ve made a wide berth of the spot.   I also know, from past experience, that if all is well, and I don’t press the boundaries, respect their business and keep to my side of the line, that eventually the line will become narrower, and I’ll be able to see just a little more. Then sometimes the bird graces us with the chance to enter into its world, and while I might not have free access, at least I’m treated benignly.

What worries me about sharing this is that some will drag out the ‘Photographers Code of Practice”, or some such and berate me for my impertinence.   However if I’m not invited, I don’t go.

Someone will ask ‘How do you know?”
To which I have to respond honestly, “Why don’t you go out and sit with a bird and find out for yourself.”  Operative point of that is— ‘sit with the bird’.

Every interaction we have had over the course of the 7-8 weeks with these two young Falcons has been on their terms.

In the last week it was obvious that they were now ready to move on from home territory.
We didn’t see any badgering by the adults to move them on. In fact the adults, for all intents had already moved off to their post-season quarters. I’m not even sure if they form monogamous bonds or simply come back with a new mate. Or find a new mate and territory.

One morning as we walked into the area, I spotted both Max and Mary sitting together in the sunshine. Suddenly he dropped, in that long gliding, slow controlled-descent that is a hallmark of Browns.
He hit the ground, and immediately began to mantle over a catch, and set up a loud long call.
And he sat.
His calls became more intense and I began to wonder if he was in trouble.
I had also invited a friend to venture in with us, and he moved off to one side for a better view.
Max was bewildered I think. Two humans he can handle. Three!!!
So before I could work out how to handle this new development, Max raised up. Lifted his wings and began to take-off… Carrying… A rabbit.
Now, you’d be forgiven for thinking that such a prize might be a struggle for a juvenile Brown Falcon, but. No.
Max could handle it quite capably, but he was also unsure of the added interest he’d managed to attract and he only flew about 50m and settled into the grass against a fence, mantled, and continued his loud call.
Leaving him in peace we moved away. Hard, when you have visitors, to just sit quietly.
And watch.

About 20 minutes later I got a text from EE. “He’s airborne”. Hurrying back, I found that he had stashed the rabbit in a nearby stump. And looking very pleased with himself. EE had managed to score some shots of his progress across the paddock.

The next few days saw them hunting further out of the home area. And then one morning, in-spite of our searching, not a wing flap or a feather was to be seen.

The Time Had Come.

Fly well Max and Mary and thanks for gracing our lives with your presence.

Enjoy

It is hard to predict, but it seems there comes a day with the young birds when their ‘baby behaviour’ is passed and they become much more aware of their growing skills, and the need to prepare to leave the home territory.

After more than a month on the wing, they were now as far as I could tell, self-sufficient. Neither adult had been supplying food for a week or so. However, even if we couldn’t spot her regularly, every so often the female would make an appearance. I am sure that she knew exactly where her two young ones were at any time.

I understand that.
In my own case, growing up in a country town, we’d come home from some adventure or other and Mum would somehow know what we’d been up to. (Good or bad) The neighbourhood grapevine was always on the alert.

The young were making forays way out of the home area, and on several visits we failed to get close, although a fly by or two would usually take place.
It was only a matter of time for them to be confident enough to move on.

So, in no particular order (as they say) Here is some of the activity

Both young Falcons were well past the ‘baby”stage and at the error of sounding anthropomorphic it was interesting to see the differences in their character, personality, and approach.
Mary was much more content to sit quietly for just the right moment. Max, with all the exuberance of a young teenage male was ready to explore, and begin to show his interest in other parts of the territory.
He began to find ways to harass the incumbent Magpies. And while the Maggies seemed to take it all seriously, he seemed to enjoy the interactions. EE has a photo of him eyeing off some Maggies on their favourite post, and it is pretty obvious what he had in mind. The fence and gate is a territory boundary for about 3 families of Maggies, and during nesting season they relentlessly pursue one-another for control of the fence. Off-season, it’s more of a communal meeting spot.
Max was ready to challenge them.

Mary had picked up an old Raven’s wing and Max decided he wanted part of the action, so he chased her round the paddock until he caught hold of part of it. With his momentum it turned Mary to the ground and they both landed holding part of the wing. Max, however conceded, and a few minutes later they were hunting together again.

I saw Max come off a branch and circle out toward where I was standing. He did several circles and I’d not seen him do this before. Then with every wing and tail feather stretched out, without a wing-flap he began to circle and rise. He’d found an updraft.
Surprisingly he quickly rose to a height where I could only just see him.

I had to wonder what the view would be like from up there. After all he didn’t have a map, or any real set landmarks. Over there was the nesting treeline, Mary sitting on a fence. The roadway out toward the beach. The housing estate in the distance.

He stopped circling, and set a long slow Falcon glide and travelled way out beyond the home paddock, and over the open fields until in the end, a kilometre or more away, I lost sight of him.
Gone.

It lead me to ponder how much lift the bird must get. When the wings are wide open, and the tail completely spread the sail area compared to the body weight must make such circling in a thermal easy. Someone could do a PHD on it.

I turned back to find Mary sitting quietly on a post, seemingly uninterested in his departure.

About 30 minutes later as we were getting ready to go. I took one more look way down the paddock, and lo, was that a small spot in the sky? And there running on really tightly tucked wings was the wander. He was on his way back. Again, I had to ponder, after going all that far out, how did he know the way back to the home paddock.

He sailed in at top speed as if nothing had happened, flared out the wings to brake his speed and dropped onto the branch alongside Mary.
So interesting to watch their different approaches to growing up.

Enjoy

By the end of three weeks on the wing, Mary and Max were both proficient hunters and highly skilled aeronauts.
They felt at ease to roam across the wider area outside the ‘home’ paddock that was bordered on three sides by old stands for trees and beach front on the fourth. The grasshoppers and crickets were in abundance so they could spend their days eating, and snoozing. The adults no longer were providing food, but from several encounters I am sure that the female was keeping a falcon-eyed gaze on her offspring even if we failed to spot her.

They were old enough now to be self-sufficient, and still young enough not to take it all seriously. Here’s a few from what we were graced to enjoy.

Enjoy

Over two weeks out of the nest, both of the young Falcons were getting the hang of working on the ground.
I’m not sure if it’s planned by the female, -does she have some way of telling?- but the young crickets and grasshoppers were also emerging and giving the young birds both plenty of foraging practice and also some high quality food.
The adult food supply chain was now reduced to only occasional top-ups.

They were also beginning to explore out beyond their home zone. And each day we found them working in different parts of the paddocks.

One morning while walking in, scanning the usual resting spots, there was no sign of the birds. We stopped on the trackside and looked through the trees. Not a feather.

We were just about to move on and consider our next move, when a rolling cackle came from just behind. I turned around and there was Max sitting on a rock at the edge of the track. Hiding in plain sight. I’d been so busy looking ‘up’ that I’d missed him so close. After introductions, I moved around a tree to get off the track and give him some space. He sat.

A couple of bike riders came down the track toward us. Max sat, then gazed at them, and decided it was too much of a risk and he took to wing down the track and over their heads. They didn’t seem to look up or recognise a falcon had just flown past them. I doubt they even saw him.

The grasshoppers provided quite a bit of entertainment, and the young birds quickly became adept at chasing them and pinning them to the ground. It became quite frantic on a few occasions, and suddenly, as I peered through the viewfinder a falcon would rush toward me, growing bigger and bigger in the lens.

I’ve included two shots of Max dropping down from a building to see what Mary was doing. The interesting thing is the frames are about 1/10th of a second apart. But if you look carefully you’ll see that he has changed the entire shape of the wing to match the job of landing. I knew birds have control of the wing feathers, but he seems to have been able to fold them up in a special setting to whiffle from the building.

Enjoy

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.

For a larger view, click on the photo.

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.

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

Sometimes serendipity does it strange and unusual activities.

I’d place and order for Peter Slater, and artist Sally Elmer’s new book “Australian Falcons” a few weeks ago and had almost forgotten about it until the other day Postman Pete turned up with a fine package containing the book.

I have a warm spot for Peter’s work as my first real bird guide was his little “Slater Field Guide” It suffers a bit these days from the species and race arrangement used, and also, of course. because so many birds have been reclassified since its update in 2003.
However it’s still my ‘Go To” when trying to id a tricky bird as the quality of the illustrations and the variations are such that they look just like the bird I’m trying to id.

It also happens, serendipitously that a large part of the new book has quite an extensive range of photos, and information on Brown Falcon.
Some I guess is readily available, some I have to admit I’d wondered about, but had never read anywhere.

From Page 45.
…Vigors and Horsfield …named “Falco Berigora” The notes accompanying the description read: “The native name of this bird, which we have adopted as its specific name is Berigora. It is called by the settlers Orange-speckled Hawk.
… Considering the variability of the Brown Falcon its not surprising that it has been given a variety of names, most of which are synomous…

Birdaspoety blog has rarely engaged in equipment or book reviews, nor am I about to start.

However here are few highlights from my copy.

Each bird chapter has some stories of his encounters with Australian Falcons and in the Brown Falcon pages is a fascinating story of raising a young female that has a damaged eye. While Peter has an aversion to giving birds names, I, on the other hand, find it useful in working with them. So much nicer to speak of Cassia, of Cinnamon, than that ” That falcon with the marble chest that is down along the lower fence line” or something.

On page 54, he discusses hunting technique
…The hunting technique… utilises a vantage point.. There the falcon waits patiently until a mammal, reptile or insect appears, then swoops down in a long glide. One strike we measured covered more than two hundred metres, a testament to the bird’s eyesight.

I have some photos of a bird that, after sitting for about 20 minutes, stiffened up, peered across the paddock(s) and then launched. Running right over my head, in a long slow controlled glide. It disappeared from view near some bushes that would have been close to 800 metres out. I don’t know what it caught, but I have no doubt its intention would have been fulfilled.

Peter also discusses the variability of the birds and how current research suggests that the colours do change as each individual ages and depending on the sex.

But if for nothing else, I appreciate the book for his close affection for the birds. It comes through on every page with descriptions like, “one of the most beautifully marked”, and “handsome male”, and “The equisite bird..,”
So I won’t feel bad about using such terms on the blog for some Brown Falcon shots that are bound to come up soon. (That is a hint, I think- more seredipity.

Enjoy