Kestrel Family

I had to let the dog out in mid afternoon yesterday, and the unusual noise had me looking up. We have a big pine tree, variety unidentified, but it somehow survives Phoenix weather... so far. It shades about a third of the back yard, and has been noted to host a variety of birds over the years. Sometimes I try to capture them with my camera, my most successful one previously being a hummingbird building her nest on top of a pine cone in a location I had a straight line open view from just the right angle where in the right light I could catch her siting on her eggs without startling her from the next. 

Good zoom lenses are great! Even better when they are attached to a camera weighing less than a pound.

Yesterday the odd noise had me looking up to see what was going on. Just half a minute before I'd caught a glimpse of a larger bird snatching a small critter off the ground just inside the back fence and swoop off with it in her bill over to the next yard, and then turn back and head for the pine tree. That's when the actual noise began.

There were two young, fluffed-out birds on the lowest of the huge branches left on the tree, about 12 feet overhead. It had been much fuller but the extra hot summer of 2020, also known "affectionately" as Covid Quarantine summer, cost the tree many of its branches, and cost us a higher water bill trying to make sure the tree survived. We'd had to hire a crew to come out and trim back the dead branches, leaving just whatever was green in place. A couple years later a self-described tree trimmer offered to "correct" the terribly botched job on our pine tree, for a fee of course. Since it was the tree which chose which parts to sacrifice to the heating climate, I was offended and sent him brusquely on his way.

The result is a fairly clear view up the main trunk and out several very major branches, with an airy canopy shading the drip line from a height of mostly 15 feet and higher. Several wide perching spots are left and the rough bark gives ample opportunity for young claws to find a secure  spot while trying out new wings and beg for their next meal, whether rodent or small bird, in yesterday's case.

I had been out with the dog - she's always watched even inside the fence because of coyotes - for about a minute before looking up to see three birds in the tree. I excused myself from guard duty to fetch my camera. I'd never seen these particular birds before, but the round heads and downcurved beaks initially screamed owl to me, even though the parent with food screamed small hawk. It was kind of reddish underneath, but having been up close and personal with a red tailed hawk before, I knew it was much too small. As I reemerged with my camera, one of the juvenile birds had just settled on a higher branch, while a parent was attempting to feed the closest one to me. It was a very clumsy process.

The very first picture I shot was one moving wing sticking way high as mama tried to keep her balance and junior kept stabbing at mama's bill trying to get its meal. Eventually there was success, as Mama flew away, junior settled down, and nothing dropped to the ground.

It wasn't quiet for long, as both young birds started demanding food immediately again, now both of them on separate, higher branches. I'd gotten a shot of Mama standing calmly on the branch, taking a much needed break, and several others of the closest youngster settled back on its new branch, mostly with one wing shoulder covering half of its face rather than tucked snugly along its side. I finally got one good one of that one facing me full on, head looking like a round ball of lightly speckled tan fluff over a body looking like a larger ball of matching fluff. I'd also taken some video, but very wobbly due to the need to locate one in its new location higher in the tree, and holding the camera up in a very uncomfortable angle for my shoulders. 

The sound quality was great however. After hearing it later in the calm of the living room, I recognized the sound later that afternoon coming from a few back yards away to the west, presumably in a tall citrus tree. The shots I got showed the distinctive black bars on the faces of all the birds, two on each side, all of them vertical and the forward one on each side going through the eye. I spent time on Google going through hawk photos, not finding anything like it, even though I did discover there were 18 varieties to pick from. After that I tried falcons, and found  photos of  kestrels with that unique face.

This morning, nice and cool at first light, I heard the same "feed-me-NOW!" call also to the west but from a different street while I was out clearing a pesky vine off the back fence. I wasn't going to try to chase the call, especially as I was doing yard work in my PJs, plus shoes and working gloves. Cat's Claw vine earns its name, and I had to crawl past both a huge ocotilla and a clump of yuccas up next to that same fence to get into the space to trim the vine that was busy trying to kill both of them. Unlike the morning before, I wasn't stabbed this time because I'd actually managed to locate all the pointy yucca swords and snip off the points before one had a chance to nail me in the forehead again like before. Or anywhere else either.

Around mid-morning, taking the dog out before I left for the club, I heard "my" birds again, back in the pine. I was trying to locate them when three flew out of the tree, over the back neighbor's yard and away across the street to the rear. But the sounds hadn't stopped. I looked up and finally located one, in a slightly different spot from yesterday, and not worth dragging the camera out again. It was even higher, and the morning sun shone harshly on its face while much of the  body was shaded. Too much contrast for a good shot, as opposed to the afternoon when birds and tree were fully shaded. So I just watched it for a bit, wondering why it was still asking to be fed instead of flying off with the rest of the family. Was it the runt, not sure enough of its wings yet to follow? Rich told me later this afternoon they were again in the pine, but by then I was tired, happy he'd seen them, and content with looking and listening tomorrow to see if they're still around. They are welcomed to all the rats in the neighborhood!