Eyes on the Skies for Raptors...

I have spent countless hours conducting raptor surveys alone in various locations in different states.  These aren't your average public hawkwatches - these are solo missions, my only second opinion for identifications is Scoobs.  The only folks I come across (or rather who come across me) while doing these surveys are generally surprised that one could (or would) count hawks all day.  I find it amusing, because in my world, who wouldn't want to sit and watch for birds for hours and hours, even if you find yourself having to sneak bathroom breaks in a busy spot, or hiking in the predawn hours packing in your essentials for the day (including a chair) for a remote count location.  A small blanket, thermos of coffee, plenty of layers, and a variety of snacks are also all essentials.

Sometimes I may end the day wind burned, sun baked, and skunked (no hawks) but I also see some crazy stuff sitting in one spot for multiple full days.  Rodents run by me, birds stop and check me out, spiders float by on wisps of silk attached to nothing but the wind, deer slip in and out of treelines, moose munch in bogs below, unbeknownst to them that they are being spied.  I have watched bare trees unfurl green leaves in the spring and watched the same trees turn to fluorescent shades of red, yellow and orange when fall rolls around.  

There are often bursts of hawk activity that fuel my fires to stay alert, continuing to scan the skies and horizon with my optics and naked eyes.  Catching sight of some wild and infrequently observed (at least for me) behaviors up close through my scope is enough to recharge my frozen bones and keep me watching through the slow times.  There are the days you see 11 species in just a few hours.  There are the days bald eagles talon-grapple at eye level.  I've watched peregrine falcons hang motionless of the wind for full minutes before cruising south at the speed of light.  I've seen merlins catch dragonflies and consume them on the wing.  I've seen osprey cross the paths of kestrels and have lost my mind trying to keep track of turkey vultures.  I've watched red-tailed hawks play fetch-and-catch with a dead bird.  I've been tricked by distance, fooled by light and faked out by thousands of distant monarch butterflies.  I've watched a high-flying peregrine come closer, closer, closer and suddenly morph into a northern harrier having never left my scope.  I've learned to look at every single distant black dot closely because eagles can materialize out of nowhere.  I've been humbled and also validated by Accipiter identifications.  I've had the pleasurable company of many common ravens that alert me to oncoming hawks with their quorks and chortles.  I've sat in cornfields, on roadsides, next to national historic landmarks, in cow pastures...

I've had to improvise to stay comfortable...

I've been visited by some strange creatures...

 

 

 

 

    
I've seen some pretty skies and some crazy clouds...

The best part is that I've had all these hours to not only learn about raptors, but to reflect, consider, and observe.  It takes patience but don't you think most people would benefit from spending a little more time reflecting, considering, and observing?