HOUSTON DAD FOUND GROUNDED!

Photograph by Francois Portmann
7:30am I'm asleep and I haven't been asleep all that long when suddenly I hear Harrison Ford say, "I'm Indiana Jones". A bull whip cracks and the Indiana Jones music swells up...it's my phone. Geez, it's my phone. Samantha, my daughter, had downloaded it "for me". Adam Welz is on the other end saying something about Francois, and the Houston tiercel. "What?"

I admit it I'm not a morning person. Yes I watch birds, but in the morning? Only on special occasions. I do not keep a life list--Am I still a birdwatcher? "What did you say, Adam?"

He repeats, "I said, Francois Portmann went over to..." Adam yawns, "Went over to East River Park and the Houston Dad is just standing there."

He also said some other things which are all rather fuzzy, but that was the important gist. I call Francois. He's tried calling the Horvaths and gotten disconnected. I say, "I'll grab a cab and come over."

I press the rest of the family into service, "Cat carrier. I need one of the cat carriers. Where are my welding gloves?" I go in search of a towel. The only one that isn't too heavy is Sam's Harry Potter Towel. She's pretty asleep maybe she won't notice. Maybe I actually brush my hair, but then again maybe not. Money for cab and out the door. But not quite, a voice catches me half way. "Mooooom, that's my Harry Potter towel."

Stunningly I get a cab without too much trouble with a very friendly driver, originally from India who is wearing an absolutely stunning, bright yellow silk turban. Quite smashing actually, but a little brilliant for me at the moment. He asks, "Do you have a little kitty in the box?"

I say no, and go into the hawk on the ground and...Hawk? Hawk doesn't seem to be in his rather extensive vocabulary. Why should it be? Explanations ensue. We make it to Houston and the FDR and I give him a blog card so he can see how the hawk thing turns out.

Francois is way over on the far side of the AstroTurf baseball field. I know, whatever possessed them. Houston Dad is standing by the fence, not looking very good. Why? Because he's just standing there on the ground, staring. Not a bit normal.

Originally the formel had been close flying around in agitation. I assume attempting to convince him to get off the ground. Francois said when he came close she perched on the fence a ways down , and then went into a tree where she was no doubt still watching. Poor thing, first her kids and now her mate.

At some point in all this I've talked to Cathy Horvath who says, "Maybe he was flying around, chasing a pigeon, and he's just really tired." Hmmm. Maybe she wouldn't say that if she could see him, but then maybe again she would. We decide to watch him for awhile. Francois wants to go get his camera. No problem. I'll watch.

But Francois points out I shouldn't watch too obviously or someone will notice the bird and possibly call Animal Control, which would just complicate matters. Right, I'll watch but pretend I'm not.


I look at the carrier. I look at the bird. He's still staring. No drooping wing. No panting. No blood at least that I can see. His feet look okay. Wait, he just picked up on a bug flying by. That's hopeful--maybe.

The park isn't busy, but a jogger goes by in a bright yellow jogging suit. What is it with the bright yellow this morning. Maybe I look at the bird and give it away because the jogger suddenly notices and runs back a few steps, then forward, then repeats. He looks at me, the cat carrier, the welding gloves. I smile. He looks befuddled, then jogs away.

The AstroTurf is really heating up. The sun is really beating down. This can't be helping Mr. Houston. His nictitating eyelids close for what seems like a little too long...wait, he's scanning bugs again. Back to the 1000 mile stare.

Francois returns. I ask if Cathy had any suggestions. He said, she said something about a friend at the ASPCA.

The ASPCA? Do I know anyone there? Nope. Besides I think this guy needs medical attention.


Photograph by Francois Portmann
I go closer. He doesn't try to put distance between us. What do you think Francois? Not good. I agree not good.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
I try to call the Horvaths. No answer. We stare at Mr. Houston. It's really hot on this AstroTurf.
Okay, he's been standing here for hours and doesn't seem to be aiming to start moving any time soon. Poison? Concussion?

Some giant piece of earth moving equipment, which is horrendously noisy, trundles past Mr. Houston on the other side of the fence. No response. Okay, that's it. I make a decision. I'll take him home and put him in the dark in my second bathroom. Then at 1:00pm the rehabbers come into Animal General and I'll take him up there.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Time for the gloves. Francois says, "Have you done this before?"

"What, pick up a Red-tail? No. But I've picked up lots of other things." I don't mention that many of them have been, dead, unconscious, or seedivores. Why worry him?"

You will notice that there is no photograph of Mr. Houston going into the carrier. Because once again the photographer became part of the action. The tiercel could spread his wings and run a few steps but that was it. Francois got the towel over him, and he just went flat, completely spent.

I held his feet as a precaution but he was so gone that when I slid him into the carrier, he just laid there.

We close him up and a construction worker on the other side of the fence, tells us that the tiercel had been there ever since he'd come in very early this morning. And then he told us the pair come every morning to a tree in the construction area and the guys watch them hunt squirrels. I ask, that if we put the fledglings in there would the guys keep an eye on them too and Gerome said, "Sure."

At least that's very good news. The parents when healthy will have no trouble finding their babies in the park as they come every day.

Francois and I turn from the fence to leave and I notice that there are two park rangers, one to the left end of the fence and one to the right end. And they're walking the fence line, closing in on us. Did someone report a downed hawk? At any rate, we're on our way.

Francois grabs us a cab and tiercel and I head for my apartment and the dark cooler bathroom.

Tiercel in the low light of the bathroom. He had his beak hooked on the bars. He looked so limp I wondered if he couldn't get his beak off. I went to see if it was uncomfortable by raising it to see if it was stuck. No. And my touching his beak did not raise a response. Not good. I take the one photo, close the door and allow him to unstress if possible.

In the meantime, I hear Indiana Jones again, and Bobby Horvath is on the phone. He's sorry he missed the call and he'll come in and get tiercel. Great, I say.

Then once again, it's Harrison Ford, this time it's Cathy Horvath. Change of plans take him to the Animal Medical Center. Oops that's pretty close to where I just came from compared to where I am. I get instructions.

10:33am After a rest in the darkened bathroom, Houston Tiercel is standing up again. This is a very good thing. Pancake hawks worry me.

Once again I get packed up to hit the streets of NYC. I set tiercel down for a moment by the door to get my hat. Chekhov, our Maine Coon cat walks past, catches a whiff of tiercel and goes from 0 to 100 in a quarter second...hair on end too. Later, even with the carrier empty the parrot flings himself and screams when he goes by. Wow. Wiring is a fascinating thing.

The Animal Medical Center is a trip in itself, the bulk of which tale is for another day. But as they brought the cat carrier back to me without the towel--remember the Harry Potter towel? I couldn't go home without Harry Potter. It turned out they were using Harry in the exam so I got some tidbits when the towel showed back up. No fractures and they were giving him fluids. Seemed like a good start. The Horvaths also requested x rays, and blood work including tests for anti-coagulant poison. Cathy called both Francois and I with the update and the blood test results should be in very soon, conceivably Wednesday.

As the formel at Houston had already been banded in the Horvath's care, as now have all three fledglings, Dad will go to the Horvaths for rehab, a short one we hope, for the first time that I know of in New York City, we will have a complete family of Red-tails that are banded from one of the urban nests.

Well, that was an interesting morning. I decide to go check on the Triborough nest family in Astoria Park.

But Francois has made it before me and taken this luscious photo of Hous, practicing his ballet moves on the bar instead of with it.

Also, by Francois, here comes Hous. Just look at that wingspan and nice positioning too.

I just miss Francois at Astoria Park, but I find Peter, one of the main local watchers, and we find Atlas watching over Hous. Look at that raised foot.

And we mustn't forget the clever zen Trib. His flying is starting to come along as well. He's just more subtle. Speaking of subtle I didn't even get a decent look at Athena today.

When I brought this photo up, it was very familiar. Sam walked by and said the same.
The face is really quite similar to the photo of--

Eldest of the Cathedral nest in 2006.

Donegal Browne

Pale Male as UK Tourist Lure, Cathedral and Triborough Updates plus the NYTimes on Marie Winn's Central Park In The Dark

Hous, the active, looks around for something to do.

A woman walks with her children down the path. An older gentleman reads his paper in a lawn chair. Never seeing that Athena is busy just above their heads in the evergreen. See her up left?

Trib, the contemplative, sits on the fence and watches the world go by.

AN UPDATE FROM JULES CORKERY, ONE OF THE CHIEF OBSERVERS OF THE TRIBOROUGH NEST.
When I left the park on Saturday night (about 4:00) the fledglings were on the west side of the pool high in the trees between the pool and the basketball court).

On Sunday morning they were on the bleachers in the high dive area. Trib was laying down and Hous was perched up. Some of the staff working on the pool came close to get cellphone pictures and the birds flew out of their range which is great! Hous flew across the high diving area to the trees where he was released. Trib perched on the fence.

Athena came over and perched on the flood lights next to the high dive and Atlas perched with her on the lights to bring her some food. Along comes Hous to join them on the light. He barrels into them and knocks them off the light. Pretty funny.

Later, when Athena brought food to the top diving platform, Hous flew up there in one attempt and got to get the food first. Meanwhile, not to be left out, Trib attempts to get to the top platform but just can't get that last upward swing. So he figures out how to climb the ladder from the second platform to the top. When he gets up there he runs like a chicken to Hous who loses his balance at the end of the diving platform. He flies to the trees and seems perfectly content to sit in the london planes for the afternoon. Such a good flyer and really enjoys moving around in the trees. Trib is still not flying as much as Hous but he is not crying. He preans and looks around quite a bit.

We didn't see Athena feed them last night but she was on the bridge rustling up dinner when we left the park. 3 crows were having battle with some mockingbirds (?) over the river in the late afternoon on Sunday but they didn't seem to be interested in the hawks. Not sure if Atlas and Athena dealt with them at all. (We thought the rain or the crows might have been the reason dinner was not served by the time we left the park)

The park was relatively quiet yesterday with the threat of rain. We finally got some rain but it was a nice sun shower with very little thunder/lightning. They both seemed to enjoy the rain and became fairly animated hopping and flying around.

This morning, Trib was perched on the high dive. Not sure if he was there all night but he was preening and looking at the starlings. Houston was all over the place. When I left him, he was watching the workers putting up new fencing for the basketball court. I let those workers know that he was there and if there were any problems to let the park staff know.

That's all for now.
Jules

And as to the discussion over the species of the prey from yesterday, the beak of which was one of the few identifying forms available beyond dark feathers and black feet. Wildlife Rehabilitator Cathy Horvath identifies the prey as a young Crow. I think she's right-- as that's what I thought too. Besides she's raised many an orphaned or injured juvenile Crow and looked at many such beaks in order to put food in them. So Crow it is!

ISOLDE ON THE SPIRE

A Raptor Bonanza--Winkie and her husband hit the raptor jackpot.

For my report on the Divines: Saturday AM, around 10, I came up empty. I think that I saw an adult on the horizon toward Central Park, but not sure. I was working Saturday afternoon and evening, so I was not available to check on the juvies. Sunday AM, around 11:15, one of the adults, my guess Isolde, was on the hospital chimney. Although I walked around for 45 minutes, I found no other hawks.

Sunday evening, about 6:45 PM, my husband and I hit the raptor bonanza! He was the first to notice the cry and ask me to identify it. ...Large baby bird distress noises!

Then out of the blue, aerial warfare was above us! A juvie hawk being harassed by the kestrels. There were two or three kestrels in pursuit. The juvie was really being dive-bombed! But it was clearly not able to fly faster or out maneuver the kestrels.

Now, wait, what's that? There is another large bird above added into the mix. This was all fairly high above the tops of the Columbia buildings, so I found a place to steady the binoculars and make sure that I was seeing right. It was a peregrine falcon, wing shape and size were my clues. Now there are three raptor species above our buildings engaged in maneuvers.

The kestrels doing the harassing and the the hawk and the peregrine trying to get clear. Or maybe the peregrine is trying to snag a meal? At this point, we are not sure how many kestrels there are. There are two major ones in pursuit and others doing support. Because they disappear behind the Columbia buildings and reappear so fast, it was impossible to keep an eye on both the juvie hawk and the peregrine and the back-up guard of kestrels - so I wouldn't be able to say for sure how many kestrels there really were. We never saw more than three together. By now the juvie hawk is resting out of sight on a roof top. And the screaming peregrine is trying to find a safe place.

Once the peregrine stopped on a railing on one of the roof tops, I was able to get the glasses on it and confirm that it too is one of the recent fledges. So we have had about ten minutes of these skirmishes above us. After a short pause, the hawk is in the air again.

Apparently the kestrels found its resting place. It appears to be getting quite tired out and not able to keep out of their way. Back to another roof - the edge of a roof, still in sight. And in the mean time the peregrine really sets us a ruckus of distress.

For some reason the kestrels are not bothering it anymore. Maybe their first encounter was enough to get their message across. After another five minutes, the kestrels are heading back toward the cathedral and leaving both birds alone.

Now wait just a minute, what is that near the peregrine? Less than thirty feet away is another hawk. All total about twenty minutes of commotion and now all is quiet. Still really quiet, except for the continued distress cries of the peregrine. All the other birds are still undercover.At this point, we head toward the cathedral. This action has taken place four blocks north of the cathedral. Both us have to reconfirm what we just witnessed.

Yes, one hawk was definitely a juvie, rosy breast clearly visible. The other, not a positive ID. From the fact that this hawk was not active in the fray, my guess is that is was one of the juvies trying to lay low, only a guess. And yes, it really was a peregrine this far from Riverside Church. It too was very mottled, not clearly marked like an adult.

Now, I do not know much about the peregrines, but I cannot imagine that an adult would be trying to sit out a kestrel attack. And would guess that no adult would be making such calls.Looking around the cathedral, I was coming up short.

Give my husband the credit. A adult hawk was on top of the head of Gabriel - the obvious lookout point! After looking at Bruce's photos from Sunday, I would almost certainly say is was Isolde, she is just that much larger relative to the angel's head. And even from four blocks the cries of the peregrine could be heard.

After about thirty more minutes, nothing much had changed. When we headed home; however, the second hawk had moved on. The juvies, both peregrine and hawk, still in the same position. If the hawk were letting out any cries, it was not head over those of the peregrine.

When we were several more blocks up, the peregrine took off over toward Columbia's campus and in direction of the Riverside Church nest. We heard the cries continue. And even after getting into our apartment those cries could still be clearly distinguished.

WOW, amazing evening!

Winkie

New York: Unlikely wildlife in Central Park
Telegraph.co.uk -
United Kingdom
This is Pale Male, a wild red-tail hawk, which, for 10 years, has nested and raised more than 20 offspring in the heart of New York. Before Pale Male (so ...


ALL PHOTOGRAPHS BY DONNA BROWNE

CENTRAL PARK IN THE DARK
More Mysteries of Urban Wildlife.
By Marie Winn.
Illustrated. 304 pp. Farrar, Straus & Giroux $25.

NIGHT MOVES
By ELIZABETH ROYTE
Published: June 22, 2008

Is it dangerous to lark in Central Park at night? Not really, Marie Winn says in “Central Park in the Dark.” The “precinct enjoys the city’s lowest crime rate,” she writes. This may be true on a per acre basis (not per capita), but still, it wasn’t until the author came to know the park extremely well that her fear of the night receded, “though it never disappeared completely. Familiarity breeds content.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/22/books/review/Roytet.html_r=1&ref=books&oref=slogin>IV>

And Marie Winn's website, a wonderful fount of Central Park Nature News--
www.mariewinn.com/

Astoria Park Eyasses I aka Checking on the Triborough Bridge Family Part I

When I arrived lower east side photographer Francois Portmann reported that this fledgling had been begging nearly non-stop for two hours. The other fledgling had been fed earlier in the morning and then the female, Athena, had come to eat her meal in front of the begging fledgling, and then had flown away.


This seemed very worrisome




As I was mulling this over and not feeling terribly good about it, here came Athena again. She delivered the prey to the branch, Hous the begging fledgling jumped at it and her, which is typical. She deftly avoided the pounce and went to the other end of the branch to see how the fledge got on. First he mantled hugely over the prey just in case the other watching fledgling had any ideas.

Athena watched.

Then Hous got down to the business of eating. We weren't sure if he'd been fed since he was released the previous morning. And truth be known, there's no real way to tell since Red-tail hawks are voracious eaters no matter when the last time they ate happened to be.

Hous gives a mighty tug.

Oops, it's gone and fallen onto the tennis court below. Also typical.

Hous is down in a flash and mantling the prey once again. Trib isn't all that far away, nor are the photographers. Any of which Hous has decided might come and nab his lunch.

He grabs the prey hop flaps up to the next higher level, mantles again, and gives the supposed would be lunch grabbers, the eye.

Then he totters ever so slightly.

And comes very close to loosing the prey and his balance. But he's learning. He holds onto the perch with his left foot and holds onto the prey with his right.

Now he has the prey between his feet and uses them both to perch with. Hmmm.

Whether he dropped it again or realized that needing both feet to perch with meant loosing his talons as dining tools I don't know.

But soon he was walking across the tennis court. It looked like the prey had been inadvertently stuck to his foot as he was shuffling along, scraping it against the court surface as he went. Then I realized he hadn't figured out that it's easier to walk with the food in your beak, rather than walking on the food as you walk.

He gets the food into a position which pleases him, gives us the glare, and sets to eating.

With gusto.

This view of the beak is for those who would like to help in identifying the prey. It was young something. We had rather an extended discussion, Adam Welz and I, and have yet settled on the species.

Oh yeah, the rest is over there.

Back he goes for more.

Then it begins to look as if he's begun to "play" with his food. Though perhaps he's just repositioning it.

GO DOWN TO THE NEXT POST FOR PART II.

BLOGGER GETS CRANKY WITH TOO MANY PHOTOS PER POST.