Bird Watching with Black Hawks in Arizona

How many of you out there are bird watchers? Raise your hands now. I see. I, too, am a watcher of birds. But this is a story of birds that were watchers of me. It was a strange sensation and a bit other-worldly.

During the year of our Lord, 2002 it came to pass that I had the privilege of living within a hundred yards of the Verde River in Arizona. My rental house was on the very edge of a lush Cottonwood/Sycamore zone of riparian paradise with no other houses close by. I spent countless hours walking in it and simply sitting by the River and dreaming. One morning I even had the unexpected pleasure of seeing several River Otters playing just a few feet from me in the river current. When I sat on the banks at night Beaver would swim past and slap their wide tails.

But the real heroes of the area were the birds. If you know the desert, then you know that a riparian zone becomes a bird magnet and that both numbers of individuals and numbers of species concentrate in the ecologically rich habitat. I moved into the place in October - well after the peak of bird activity that year. However, I noticed a large nest in the top of a tall Cottonwood tree and I spent the winter hoping that the builders would return in the Spring. They did.

The homeowners of that high nest were a pair of Black Hawks who returned in March of 2002. As a matter of fact, they brought with them one of the previous year's offspring and, for just a few days, I had three wonderful black predators with 100 yards of my front deck. But it is the way of the wild that three cannot occupy a space for two and one day the young bird was gone and never seen again. The male and female, once the kid was out, set about repairing the nest and establishing their routine. Although I watched them until they left at the end of summer, I never saw any sign of a successful breeding and I had to assume that they were enjoying a year without the kids. For my part, they became the real focus of the summer. They were always visible and they were seldom quiet. The call of a Black Hawk is a high pitched, very pure, very loud whistle. I got to the point where I could imitate that whistle fairly well. In fact, I thought that I had developed a relationship with the pair that summer. As it turned out, I did grow a relationship; it was similar to the interaction of a wolf and a rabbit.

One fine day at the end of summer I was walking around beneath their tree. I thought that we were carrying on a pleasant enough conversation and I was only vaguely aware that I only saw one bird. I walked slowly and whistled and the bird sat on the nest and whistled back to me. How nice. But then I turned slightly and looked up. Wow! Most of what I saw was black. My view was black because the other bird picked then to dive right at my head! That bird got to be very big very quickly as it soared at me with its wings outstretched. I was so taken in that instant by the mass of black feathers that I don't think I even noticed the wide, sharp beak that must have been in front of it all. I was saved the embarrassment of having to reclaim my nose by a last instant move of the hawk that took him off to my right and up. I stood there for only a moment before I remembered that I had something on the stove that needed my immediate attention and started to walk quickly up the hill to my house. As I moved away I felt a blast of wind on the back of my head and heard a very faint whoosh of air. That hawk had come back for a parting shot just to make his point in case I had missed the first time. It really wasn't necessary. I got the message right away. And, anyway, there must have been something on the stove. Yeah, right.

As I walked into the house I flashed on what had just happened. I was being people watched by two birds. They set me up for whole little show. They saw me coming, of course. I am fairly sure that they separated so that one could draw me in. They knew that I would try to call to them and that I would approach their tree. When the game was over the score was Hawks - 1, me - 0.

So, folks, when you are out there watching birds ... .