Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
Judging by the white streaks running down the saguaro I’m guessing this kestrel likes this perch. I met her before sunset as I was heading out of the park and couldn’t resist stopping briefly for a picture, I so adore these little falcons. Unlike my time in the Northwest I’ve not gotten to see their hovering pose here in the desert. I think I too would enjoy a nice sit-down given the many high perches nature has graciously provided.
A male kestrel arrives at his nest in a saguaro to feed the last of his young that had not yet fledged but was surprised to find him sitting in the entrance hole. Strong winds blew as the sun was about to set but kestrels are agile fliers with a strong grip, so even though he had to fall backwards to avoid crashing into the youngster he was able to flare out his wings while grasping the cactus with his talons and maintain his purchase. He not only recovered with remarkable grace but soon leaned in and fed his hungry charge before flying off to look for the next meal.
I bet next time he calls first to let junior know he’s on his way.
I timed my hike on Thanksgiving afternoon so I’d arrive right at closing at the neighborhood entrance where my wife was picking me up. The sun set a handful of minutes before closing, the trailhead a handful of minutes away, when I spotted a kestrel in a large ocotillo next to the trail. I first thought to photograph her in silhouette but the northern sky was already dark enough that I could brighten the exposure and leave the picture a little dark and blue, a nod to the quiet moment when the day begins to yield. I fired off four quick shots with the self timer and hoped for the best as the scene was not so serene for her, her head swiveling around to keep an eye on the two Gila woodpeckers below who were absolutely giving her the business. I’ve seen her and her mate around before, and I suspect the woodpeckers may be the pair who were nesting in an adjacent saguaro this spring, so this neighborhood squabble may not be the first of its kind. I had to continue on to make my target but thankfully one of the pictures of the lovely little falcon turned out as I hoped.
A male and female kestrel share a perch high atop the tallest saguaro on a cold winter’s morning in the Sonoran Desert. I was able to watch kestrels in the Pacific Northwest, on rare occasion at very close distances, but there they tended to hover in place above the meadow while looking for prey below, while here the old giants give them a similar viewpoint from a sitting position. On the rocks below them is a Harris’s antelope squirrel, keeping an eye on the neighborhood. It wasn’t bothered by the kestrels, I suppose it’s too big to be carried off by the little falcons. Scattered around are smaller saguaros of various ages and sizes, with a barrel cactus in the middle.
In the spring every square inch of the tops of old saguaros might be covered in flower buds and blossoms, thick as thieves, such as these providing a softer-than-normal perch for an American kestrel. I saw our smallest falcon frequently in the Northwest but only a couple of times here so it was a pleasure to see her as she towered over me on the Granite Mountain Loop Trail.
The alarm went off at 3:41 a.m. this morning, the start of a three day weekend. I’ve been a bit worn out and my stomach has bothered me a couple of days this week but I nevertheless crawled out of bed, if a bit reluctantly, as high clouds were predicted instead of the usual clear skies and I was curious to see what the sunrise might bring. I was on the trails before the sun but it looked like there wouldn’t be much color in the skies as the sun rose, and there wasn’t, save for one small portion of the sky. Unable to get the picture I hoped for I instead took my delight in the serenity of the desert morning.
Heading up the Vaquero Trail to where I had seen antelope squirrels the week before I stopped when I saw an American kestrel perched on a saguaro in the distance, one leg held in the air, silhouetted against the patch of orange sky. The little falcon didn’t stay long nor did the color but I got my sunrise picture after all, just not the one I was expecting, the first of several surprises the desert had in store for me this morning. The little appendages sticking out from the saguaro are spent flowers on top of the fruits developing below, handy perches above the cactus spines.
A female American kestrel pulls apart what looks like a mouse at Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge on a winter morning in 2006. There are a couple of species of mice at the refuge that I’m aware of, deer mice and Pacific jumping mice, but I have no idea which this is (was). Some predators at the refuge swallow their prey whole, while others like kestrels pull them apart and eat just the parts they want and toss aside the rest.
Quite a different kestrel picture compared to the previous one I posted, this distant portrait shows a kestrel at work, hovering in place watching for small rodents moving about in the meadow below.
Kestrels are our smallest falcon but late in December of 2010 I was thrilled to see them up close at several locations around the auto tour at Ridgefield. This male was hunting for earthworms beside Canvasback Lake on a rainy Christmas Eve.
There are a handful of true falcons that typically breed in North America, all belonging to the genus Falco, with the smallest being the American kestrel (falco sparverius). The kestrels at Ridgefield are pretty wary and often won’t stay perched if you pass on the auto tour, and probably for good reason, as there are a number of other birds of prey that share these hunting grounds that dwarf the little falcons in size.
This lovely female was a ways off the road and stayed still for a few pictures before she took to the skies again to resume the hunt.
Boolie 