Urban hawking: Small game pursuits

Gripped by the late-season’s mercurial weather pattern, the remnants of the fall foliage were thin in the city ravine. A red-tailed hawk perched on the edge of the canopy stands out against the city skyline, watching for quarry. Twenty yards away, an eastern gray squirrel clings to the bark of a maple — its camouflage and ability to freeze in the face of danger working in its favor. Just then, a gust of wind catches the long hair of its tail, breaking the stalemate. This slight movement is all the raptor needs to zero in on its prey. The hawk swiftly launches into a weaving flight through the branches, rapidly closing the distance before tucking her wings for the final plunge, striking the squirrel and tree trunk with a crash. The squirrel twists, trying to break free of the powerful talons as they hit the forest floor, where the hawk’s grip tightens. When I reached Meadow, my falconry bird, she had secured the head of the squirrel. This seemingly cruel act is a vital survival instinct. A prolonged fight is avoided at all costs — a hawk that sustains a bad bite to its feet risks losing the use of its talons, which could lead to death from either infection or starvation. Meadow’s death grip also protected me as I reached in to mercifully end the squirrel’s life — an act far more significant to me than to her. A hawk, you see, doesn’t carry the burdens of right or wrong, cruelty or humanity. She is simply securing food to survive another day. I reached into my game bag and traded her the squirrel for a portioned piece of meat, allowing us to continue our hunt down the ravine in hopes of adding a cottontail or another squirrel to the day’s game bag. In praise of red-tails Red-tailed hawks are a perfect fit for both apprentice and experienced falconers. They are common enough that securing and trapping one for falconry is relatively easy. Red-tails adapt well to the inexperienced handling of apprentices while, in skilled hands, are capable of securing more quarry per season than other falconry birds. A passage red-tail, meaning a first-year bird heading into its first autumn, comes equipped with survival lessons learned in the challenging period after leaving the nest. Most importantly, it has learned to hunt. Combine that with flying skills and the critical advantage