Yesterday I biked from my home near Cass Park in Ithaca to Taughannock Falls State Park. I used the Black Diamond Trail which is conveniently direct and safe from motor traffic, and goes through a variety of habitats past nice views and many lovely waterfalls of various sizes. It climbs from lake level to the top of Taughannock gorge ever so gently for 8 1/2 miles, yet the return trip can be made largely by coasting. All the distractions along the BDT slow me down, so for most of the trip I played leapfrog with a couple of steady walkers, as I kept pausing for real or imagined birds, until they finally pulled far ahead when at least 3 Eastern Towhees repeatedly called at me while staying hidden in dense nearby vegetation (Later I finally saw one more by luck than skill.) The other drawback to biking the BDT is the noise of the fine gravel under my tires which obscures bird sounds and drives me nuts. If it wasn’t for the energy-efficiency of biking, including the coasting return trip, I’d walk instead.
My goal was to see a nesting Peregrine Falcon. I was warned, correctly, that it would be hard to see and not much to look at, but I wanted to bear witness to the species’ return. When I started birding as a kid, Peregrines were already gone from eastern North America, and I was my twenties visiting the Pacific coast when I first saw a Peregrine. It was the inspiring work of folks at the Cornell Lab or Ornithology, along with scores of volunteers in the field, which gave these spectacular birds another chance to live in our part of the world. The birds could finally return after the banning of some of the poisons whose incredibly widespread use had so harmed Peregrines, Bald Eagles, Ospreys, Brown Pelicans, and many other creatures. Then ecosystems had decades to flush themselves and heal while the birds slowly repopulated. Yesterday I succeeded in seeing the fastest of predators lying humbly, vague and anonymous in the distance, on a rock ledge waiting for her eggs to hatch. I knew more or less where to look, but it took me awhile. The best clue was the presumed male Peregrine perched & preening on a dead tree that overhung the gorge. Where he was on guard duty, the nest site must be nearby. I spent awhile staring at a bird-like-object on the wrong shelf before I found the actual bird staring back. I decided to try to photograph what I saw, but my set-up is a bit fussy. I can look through the scope, or I can photograph through the scope but it takes a few seconds of steadiness to switch, and it’s hard to tell exactly what my picture will show or did show. The view was tricky, too, over a fence and through a narrow grove of evergreen Hemlocks, other tree trunks, and understory trees, then across the substantial gorge. I spent several minutes moving my scope, seeking a better vantage. Then I had to ensure my tripod was steady, because of wind above and duff below, and because extending the tripod enough to see over the fence allowed it to vibrate more. During that time I was unable to photograph what I saw: the female raising herself a bit and reaching down with her bill to adjust and turn the eggs. My next picture has her lying down again, with her head not showing the white pattern on the face so well. But after a couple minutes she was pretty much in the original and recognizable position. Figuring she was settled for awhile, I decided to photograph the male. Maybe he had finished preening and looked more like a bird than like a lot of feathers sticking, out as he did when I first saw him. His perch had been just a bit too far away from her ledge to fit them both in one scope-view photo, so I was about to aim the scope on him when I saw that his dead tree was empty, and he was fluttering to a landing on the nest ledge, at the end of the shelf which was, conveniently, closest to his dead tree and also, respectfully, as far as possible from the female. Did any signal request his presence or ask her permission? I don’t know. Soon after the male arrived, the female stood up (photo) and walked to the edge (photo) before spreading her wings and dropping off the cliff, into flight, and out of view. The male then walked along the ledge to the nest area, leaned down to arrange the eggs a bit with his bill. I think I saw at least 3 of them, light brown like some chicken eggs, but more round. Then he settled himself on top of them to take a turn at incubation (photo), whether for minutes or hours I don’t know. This was all new to me. Maybe it wasn’t much, but it seemed like plenty. I hiked back to my bike for the long gentle ride home. Photos, such as they be, are here: https://ebird.org/checklist/S107585659 - - Dave Nutter -- Cayugabirds-L List Info: http://www.NortheastBirding.com/CayugabirdsWELCOME http://www.NortheastBirding.com/CayugabirdsRULES http://www.NortheastBirding.com/CayugabirdsSubscribeConfigurationLeave.htm ARCHIVES: 1) http://www.mail-archive.com/cayugabirds-l@cornell.edu/maillist.html 2) http://www.surfbirds.com/birdingmail/Group/Cayugabirds 3) http://birdingonthe.net/mailinglists/CAYU.html Please submit your observations to eBird: http://ebird.org/content/ebird/ --