Sunday, February 19, 2006

28. Cooper's Hawk Back to 27

The juvenile hawk that sits across the street from us on a powerline, staking out our 40? He's a Cooper's Hawk. Thank you, David Sibley.

Yesterday I saw him careening down Page Street in pursuit of a pigeon. It was a pure white pigeon, one of our favorites, largely because it's so distinctive and doesn't look like it has, you know, leprosy. It seems to lead the flock it flies with most of the time. I call it the pigeon king. Harper, being sexist, refers to it as the pigeon princess. So, after seeing a few white feathers in the street and missing the outcome of the aerial battle that went down on our victorian lane, I was releived to see the pigeon king princess eating and pooping all over our roof again today.

As to the poor confused young Cooper's Hawk; I'm not sure what he would have done with it had he caught it, the Pig Goon being about 3/4 the size of the young Cooper's. Still, it was interesting to see the drama of nature unfolding here in the middle of the city.

Alas, I have grown unsure of my little hawk, after seeing photos of a Sharp-Shinned that very much resembled what I thought to be the Cooper's. Could I still count it as a Cooper's? Sure. Could I change it to a Sharp-Shinned and move along? Yes.

But the whole point of this exercise is to be sure. And I'm not sure. So until I am, I'm afraid that it's back to 27 for me.


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