Birding got the better of me yesterday--you will note there is no podcast today. I had my day all planned out, serious writing to do, if I got to certain point I would ride my bike for exercise, then tidy up the kitchen, mop the floor, make dinner, record the podcast and then bed. The siren song of 70 degree weather and spring migration poved to be too much. I got to a good point on my writing and changed into my bike gear. I realized that all of the lakes near me iced out the day before so waterfowl would be a good possibility. I figured out a safe way to strap my spotting scope to my bike...tucked my camera for digiscoping into my backpack and hit the trails. What only should have been an hour long ride turned into three.

Cool waterfowl were all over Lake Calhoun and Lake Harriet. This is part of a mixed flock of red-breasted mergansers and horned grebes. I about wiped out on my bike when I saw this flock close to shore. The trails were so packed with Minnesotans walking and riding that I had a tough time getting a photo without someone jogging in front of my camera. As I was watching this flock, I heard a guy tell his friend, "Hey the dog wants to run, I'm gonna jump him in the water here."

"Pardon me," I shouted to get his attention. "I'm actually trying to watch those birds right in front of us, would you mind using a different stretch of the 3 mile trail around the lake?"

He hadn't noticed me or the birds, was very apologetic and gladly jumped his dog further down the trail. I could understand, I'm oblivious to people around me when I watch birds and the lake trails were so packed, I could see how someone might think a bird watcher would be no where near this place.

Here's a photo of a pair of male red-breasted mergansers. I have to say, that when my single female friends lament about having trouble meeting someone, I always try to suggest birding. If you want to attract attention, go to a crowded lake with a bike and a spotting scope--guys come of out of the woodwork to talk to you...although I have to wonder, is my butt in the biking pants or my Swarovski that really gets their attention? Most of the people who came up to me wanted to know if I was watching the loons. I'd seen the loons, but they were further out and the mergansers were closer. One guy kept trying to get me to move my scope to watch the loons (which is a refreshing change, normally people want me to look at that bald eagle on the other side of the lake). I kept insisting that I was really into seeing the red-breasted mergansers which have a more Dr. Seuss look than the loons.

I did find a pair of loons very close to shore on Lake Calhoun. I planted myself on the ground to snapped away. Nothing like watching the elegant and deadly fish killing machine in bright sun.

As I took photos, one of the birds yodeled loudly and everyone on the trails stopped moving and stopped talking momentarily. Everyone had to pay attention to that haunting sound. It was cool to hear it and even cooler to see everyone around me to pause and take notice. How strange and wonderful it was to hear it with the Minneapolis skyline in the background, this bird so associated with the remote northern woods and lakes. I overheard a nearby jogger say to her companion, "That really did sound like a loon, that must be what those birds are out there. Wow!"

I'm so grateful when I find loons in the metro area, especially biking distance from my home. When I first moved up here, I expected the state bird of Minnesota to be as easy to find as the state bird of Indiana was. It was actually a year or so before I got to experience a wild loon. There seems to be a pair that hangs out all summer bouncing between the Chain of Lakes in Minneapolis. Maybe one summer they will successfully nest and fledge a young loon?

I don't know that I got much in the way of exercise since I stopped to watch birds so many times, but it was totally worth going out. I don't regret my dirty kitchen one bit (I made Non Birding Bill fire up the grill for dinner instead).

Next podcast will be Friday for sure...it's supposed to get nastier weather later this week so no migratory distractions.

We interrupt the regularly scheduled report on last weekend's hawk banding to inform you of an urban Cooper's hawk observation that happened today. WARNING! This post is not for the squeamish. In Nature, the fight for survival can be brutal and this post is going to describe an incident between a hawk and a pigeon. If you would rather think of all the animals and birds getting along like a Leo the Lion cartoon, you may want to skip reading the rest of this post.

I needed to take care of some grocery shopping this afternoon before we were hit with a line of thunder storms. When we came back from Duluth last night, you could feel the humidity, I had a tough time sleeping last and the air felt heavier throughout the day today. I left to go shopping and I as I walked past the side of my building, I noticed an odd lump next the bushes that border the apartment building's property. It suddenly dawned on me that the shape was a Cooper's hawk mantling over prey. There was white flash and I realized it had a pigeon and it wasn't quite dead. So, I dashed upstairs to my apartment for my digiscoping equipment.

I came back down and the hawk had changed position and was facing me with the pigeon. This was a Cooper's hawk hatched this year based on the brown and white plumage. It's also a female based on her size compared to the pigeon--she's a big ole girl. The hawk seemed antsy, and had a tough time balancing on top of the pigeon. When I took the second photo, I found out why:

The pigeon was still alive and struggling to free itself from the inexperienced hunter. I have always thought that Cooper's hawk was one of the worst ways to go--especially a young one that doesn't quite know how to use all of its equipment yet. Cooper's hawks squeeze repeatedly, and since their toes and talons are thinner than a red-tailed hawk, it's kind of like a death by sewing machine needles. When a Coops starts to feed, prey isn't always dead. Experienced birds can kill quicker, it makes it easier to feed and they don't waste as much energy. I started to debate with myself as to how long I can watch this, let alone take photos.

And then the pigeon rolled and was free (I took a photo but all that was left was a few feathers floating), it took off like a shot right over my head, the Cooper's followed in hot pursuit at eye level with me to the right side of my face. I felt a slight breeze in its wake. The pigeon crossed the busy street right over the cars, the Cooper's gained quickly. The pigeon raced over a parking lot towards some trees, the hawk caught up and nailed it in mid air, there was a puff of feathers and both fell to the ground.

I crossed the street at searched the parking lot. The young Cooper's hawk had made it to a small yard at the other end of the lot. If you look between the dark gray car and the yellow garage, you can see a small lump on the ground. That's the hawk. Don't worry, I got her in the scope:

The pigeon was still putting up a fight, although not much. You could still see it breathing the scope. The young and hungry hawk could no longer wait and had to feed.

You will note in some of the photos that her mouth is open. She was panting hard. I could feel sweat dripping down my back under my rain jacket from the humid conditions, I can't imagine what it feels like when you can't sweat, have to fly hard and try and kill something half your size to survive. I didn't approach any closer to the hawk, she was having a tough enough go at trying to eat for the day and I could get good enough photos from this distance.

As she was feeding, the pigeon finally stopped struggling and breathing. A few times the hawk would mantle--spread out her wings and tail to look big and intimidating and hide the prey. I wondered what would cause that.

I soon had my answer. A gray squirrel was investigating the situation, squealing out its protest of the hawk near its tree. I could hear cardinals chipping a warning to each other and robins giving their high pitched warning whistles as well. No one was happy about the Cooper's hawk.

The hawk continued to feed and then mantled one more time. This time and older gentleman and small dog were approaching, both appeared oblivious to the feeding hawk.

The man and dog were too much and the Cooper's flew away with its kill. I'm always amazed at what I spy in our neighborhood. I always wonder if my other neighbors ever notice this. Did the people driving down the street notice the pigeon with the hawk in pursuit mere feet in front of their windshield? I did feel bad for the pigeon (I feed them off my window ledge), but also realized that they hawk had been having a hard time of it herself just trying to survive. Will she able to continue to navigate the busy Uptown area already populated with quite a few adult Cooper's hawks? Will she last the fall and winter?

I will say, she looked so big compared to all the tiny sharp-shinned hawks we banded this past weekend. Speaking of which, we will now return to our regularly scheduled hawk banding updates.