The age of this photo is not just displayed by the condition of the negative (which has even been cleaned up a bit from the original,) but by the perch of the bird here, my roommate’s rack for holding cassette tapes – those are not my music choices. Are there even some cassingles in there? Anyway, I peg this around 1994 or so, and I believe it represents the latest image of an American kestrel (Falco sparverius) that I have in my stock. That’s annoying all by itself, because I think they’re fabulous little raptors, easily my favorite, and for some reason I haven’t seen one in the wild in ages. Like literally decades. They used to be fairly common in the area, but their numbers seem to have dwindled significantly, and while I won’t say that my experience is definitive – I may simply not be visiting the areas they frequent – not seeing any in such a long time does not bode well. I got excited last year down at Jordan Lake because I spotted a bird in the distance that immediately sparked recognition in my mind, despite its great distance from me, since its body shape and flight pattern was so familiar, but that turned out to be a merlin instead – closely related and actually my first confirmed sighting of that species, but not a kestrel.
The odd setting of this photo is courtesy of the kestrel, kind of. I was working then in a humane society, primarily admin but also animal rescue and rehabilitation, and in that last I largely specialized in raptors. This guy had arrived in poor condition but no broken bones and was being nursed back to health. Several days in when it should have been eating solid food on its own and wasn’t, I took the bird back to my place in a carrier to spend more dedicated time in coaxing it to eat something. This was where I discovered that reducing stress on the patient helped them respond better – seems obvious when I say it that way, but you have to consider the details. When attempting to introduce solid food to a wild patient, typically we bundled them up in a towel so they couldn’t try to fly off nor do any damage with talons/claws/beak/teeth/etc, and then would attempt to slide the solid food into their beaks/mouths. Just like infants, this was often met with resistance, and when attempting this for a short while with my patient here, I failed to notice that the towel was coming loose – but the kestrel didn’t. With a sudden shrug it burst free from the wrapping – and then seized the food and began eating quite readily on its own. And as long as it was unrestrained, it wasn’t bothered by my proximity and would take the mouse parts I offered. On the second day of this, it decided to try out its wings again and took a short flight over to the cassette rack, and I was happy to allow this both from not wanting to re-injure it through attempts at restraint, and because we had to evaluate its flying ability anyway – no sign of reduced capacity was displayed by this short flight at least. After a few days in a flight cage where it demonstrated plenty of mobility, my patient here was released, whereupon it flew up to the top of a nearby telephone pole and vented forth a solid minute or so of calling exuberantly, before then setting off determinedly in a specific direction and vanishing from sight. What the serenade was about, I have no idea, though I’m quite sure it wasn’t aimed at me in any way, because that simply isn’t how birds think nor what birdsong is for. But I was pleased to see it fly off so competently – with a little regret of course. Had I known I would see so few again after this point, I would have taken more photos.
A little later on, I was doing the same bundled-up feeding thing with a barred owl (which can be extremely nasty when inclined) and noticed how it watched me as I leaned over. On a whim, I shifted it higher than I was, feeding it (still bundled) while propped up on a desk while I sat on the floor beneath it, and it fed much more readily. Height and an open avenue of escape is security to birds, while looming over them is not, and I began suggesting this practice to others when it was possible – it did seem to help.
But yeah, man, I gotta find some more kestrels someplace…