Last weekend I invited a friend of a friend, Selena, to bring her young red tailed hawk, Lofn, to hunt at Green Acres Farm. OK, so some of you are thinking I am a bit crazy inviting a falconer to bring her hawk hunting at the farm just a week after losing a third chicken to a Coopers hawk. You might be asking WHY would you do THAT? That was definitely my husband’s first reaction. There are many possible reasons. Maybe I just wanted to have a better understanding of the enemy, ‘chicken murdering’ hawks. Maybe I also wanted to reset my perspective to try to appreciate and respect a beautiful animal that is trying to survive in a world where humans are progressively invading more and more of its habitat. Could I come to peace with the concept that their hunting in ‘my’ habitat is a natural consequence of humans taking over theirs? And maybe I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch a falconer and her hawk working together. I have been fascinated by the idea of human and raptor partnership ever since reading My Side of the Mountain (Jean Carolyn Craighead, 1959) as a youngster. In the book, a preteen surviving alone in the Wilderness of the Catskill mountains adopts a peregrine falcon. AND, finally, in my defense, I knew that, unlike when the Coopers hawk was hunting, I could keep the chickens safely protected inside their coop.
Selena and Lofn arrived on a cold, sunny Saturday morning as we gathered with good friends and neighbors Barbara and Don, to watch and learn. While Selena got herself and Lofn ready to hunt in the back field, she explained that Lofn would start the hunt sitting high up the trees overlooking the field. Selena’s part would be to walk through the brush, thumping with her stick, to flush out rabbits. She said Lofn usually saw the rabbits as soon as she did, if not before, but just to be sure, when Selena saw a rabbit she would call out Ho, Ho, Ho, to alert Lofn that a rabbit was on the move.
As Selena beat at the tall grass and shrubs along the side of the field, we followed behind, not sure how receptive Lofn would be to our presence and not wanting to interfere with their hunt. Lofn found a place high up in one of the legacy oak trees along the edge of the field. As we watched, it was clear that Lofn was totally keyed into their hunting as a unit. Her eyes tracked Selena’s every move as Selena crossed into the field. As Selena climbed onto our burn pile, probing down among the branches with her staff, the first rabbit ran out. Selena called out Ho, Ho, Ho as Lofn took off from her perch. Lofn soared briefly above the rabbit and then tucked back her wings and plunged toward the ground, disappearing into the grass behind the rabbit. Breathtaking and beautiful to watch!
Unsuccessful on her first try, Lofn found another perch in a tree overlooking the field. As Selena flushed another rabbit from the burn pile, we all joined our voices to her Ho, Ho, Ho, and again Lofn soared briefly and then plummeted toward the ground in pursuit. Selena explained that if Lofn was successful, we would hear the rabbit crying out. After a brief quiet wait, Lofn flew back up to the trees, and the hunt continued.
As it became obvious that Lofn was totally unphased by our presence, we all took up hefty sticks and joined Selena beating the brush. After a couple more tries on Lofn’s part, it was clear that she was far better at spotting rabbits than I was, generally launching herself into the air well before I knew a rabbit was on the move. On the 4th or 5th try, she finally got her rabbit. Watching Lofn hunt was an amazing experience and we weren’t ready to give it up yet. We spent a bit more time beating brush, but didn’t succeed at flushing any more rabbits for her. But, we weren’t quite done. Before Lofn left she was also kind enough to harvest one of the many squirrels that spend their time stealing seed from my ‘squirrel proof’ bird feeders. Thanks Lofn.
After Selena and Lofn were safely on their way, I let the chickens out of the coop to enjoy the rest of their day, blissfully unaware that shortly before, we had been hosting a likely chicken predator for a visit.