Circumstantial evidence, but it looks good enough to convict!
I was walking east on 113th St. toward the hawk nest viewing spots just past 5:20, and had barely waved hello to the guard watching the medical parking lot below the nest, when Tristan came buzzing overhead. He quickly hooked left and perched on a branch about 20 feet off the ground just inside the entrance to the adjacent (west) parking lot.
Yow, even though it's just a hundred yards from the nest, I don't think I've ever seen either of the adult Cathedral hawks come this far west. The exception might be when they were feeding fledglings perched on the side of the Cathedral last June.
Tristan's really close, but I'm concerned that I'm going to have trouble getting a decent picture as I'm miserable at handling backlit subjects, especially in overcast weather.
Ah, but Tristan's a cooperative hawk. He shifts west a tree and now I have the Cathedral as a backdrop to ease the lighting problem.
But what's he doing? Well, he could be hunting. His crop looks empty, and he is doing that little bobbing motion that suggests he's scoping out what might be on the ground. The problem is that except for a 10-15 foot wide verge of weeds and clutter along the edge of the parking lot, the ground is pretty much asphalt. Also, it seems evident that all the pigeons and squirrels in the area have figured out that he's there.
Donna Browne and her daughter Sam have also arrived, but initially set up down at the corner where they could observe the nest. I hie my way down there to let them know what Tristan's up to. We observe the nest a little; maybe there're some signs of fidgeting from mama Isolde up there. Then we all head back west toward the hospital entrance where we can watch Tristan.
And so it goes for the next hour. Tristan is hanging out on his branch over the parking lot, not making a move toward any prey.
No real activity visible at the nest, although for awhile we can see the tips of Isolde's tail feathers sticking out, like she's sitting in the back corner of the nest. We say hello to many passers-by and explain to the curious why we're hanging out at this out-of-way street corner.
Come 6:30 and I'm already wondering how much longer I'm going to wait for something interesting. Tristan has switched trees again, moving another two or three to the west and much closer to the stonecutters' shed, but for grue's sake all he's doing is preening. No, he only does that for a moment. He does some intent looking around, but I don't think he's fooling anyone. That's certainly a squirrel whine coming from close by.
Well, hawkwatching does pass quicker when you have someone to talk to, so I'll stick it out a little longer.
It's 6:55 and after 90 minutes of not much really going on, I have just made a comment that Tristan is probably just bored and chilling out by watching anything that walks or flies or creeps by. Then Sam comes heading back toward the nest saying that Tristan has just caught a mouse. Soon we see him come flying our way, circling about a bit and popping up to the corner of the roof of St. Luke's, just below the vase that the family likes to perch on.
A minute later he carries the food across the street to the nest. But it's not a drive-by delivery. He's staying put, perched on St. Andrew's hand and Isolde's not coming out either. Interesting....
Three minutes later Tristan makes his exit from the nest and flies back west to the parking lot. Whoa, what's Isolde doing? She's standing on the edge of the nest, leaning into the bowl, head bobbing up and down a little bit. Yes, it looks like feeding activity! We have a nestling!
Possibly two. Even though we can't possibly see anything white and fuzzy from down at street level, Donna swears that through her scope she can see Isolde feeding tidbits in two directions.
I quickly check back west to see what Tristan's up to, and find him perched about 20 feet higher than previously. Not much sound to indicate that potential prey are warning each other about the fiend in the tree.
Then back to the nest. Isolde's still in a feeding posture.
At 7:10 Isolde finishes up the feeding and climbs back down in the nest.
Quieting down here at the corner, so back west again at 7:15, just in time to get a glimpse of Tristan dropping off the tree branch, and then 15 seconds later fly back up to perhaps the same branch where he'd been at 6:00. And it looks like he's got his own dinner in talon, something with a long skinny tail, a big mouse or a small rat.
He turns his back on the observers, that being a couple of us hawkwatchers plus many passers-by who can't help but see what's happening, and digs in.
Nothing dainty about it, and no small bites either.
Ugh. New York may have one less rat, but that was in retrospect pretty gross.
After ten minutes, he turns back around. His crop is looking full. He stretches just a little bit, looks around just a bit, then takes off to the east. He disappears around the corner of the Cathedral for a moment, then a minute later comes flying back north to the vase on the roof at St. Luke's, perches a minute...
...then back across the street to the nest.
This was apparently a fly-by food drop-off, as this time Tristan stayed a minute at most before taking off, and no new further activity can be seen at the nest. He flies up Morningside Drive to perch in the top of a tree at the little hill at 114th St. He stays for another five minutes, letting passers by admire his fine red tail feathers. Then at 7:40 it's apparently bed time, as he dives off to the south, presumably to a roosting spot at the southeast corner of Morningside Park.
Looks quiet at the nest. Exeunt the nest area to the soul-food restaurant on 110th St.
Finally: In addition to vicarious joy at there being new hawk babies in the neighborhood, I enjoy a smug sense of self-satisfaction as it seems I was either spot on or just a day off on predicting first hatch at the Cathedral. Back when it looked like Isolde was spending her first night in the nest for the season, I picked April 26 for the hatch.
Oh, but one last thing. When will the nestlings become visible? Well, the Fordham babies also hatched in the last couple days, and watchers there are suggesting May 4. So perhaps we'll see little white fuzzy heads just visible at the Cathedral nest the end of this coming week.
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