The Others

Although there's been many harrier to occupy my daily thoughts this year, it's not surprising to know that I have not found them at every site I've visited across Auckland. Of course, I'm always ever hopeful and scan the skies incessantly wherever I am. But sometimes there are simply no raptors to be found. In those instances, I let the 'others' entertain me.

The Captain and I

Over the last six weeks or so, the harrier have been busy a-courting and I've been busy watching them do so (voyeur, anyone??). I've also taken the opportunity to name the pairs that I've spent time with, as I do feel I've bonded somewhat with them. Over in East Tamaki are one of my main pairs who I've named Captain and Tenille. Don't ask why; I never liked their music, my parents never liked their music, but I just find it amusing (attribute this to crazy days out on my own in the field). How have I bonded with them? Case in point:

Yesterday, in delightful gale-force winds, Captain led me on a merry dance indeed. I must have traversed several k's, jogging back and forwards to keep him in sight as he cruised his territory on the hunt for a snack. Which would have been fine ... if I wasn't layered up to resemble a marshmallow in protection against the cold, if there hadn't been horizontal rain to accompany the howling wind, if the howling wind wasn't making my eyes water so much I could barely see and if my gumboots hadn't both decided that was the day to spring a leak ...

Perhaps it was his form of payback for the less-than-cool name, because I swear Captain was enjoying watching me stumble and mutter my way across the blustery hillside. I was just very grateful indeed that the lawnmower men (see June's postings) were nowhere to be seen!

Wistful anthropomorphism aside, some of Captain and Tenille's movements are related to me being so close to their home turf; they will only allow a human to come so close to where they are before they move away. Bonnie and Clyde (I know! Cool, huh?!) however, well they're accustomed to people being a bit closer, due to the nature of their territory, so life is a bit easier when I'm with them. But that's a story for another day.

Lines and Lines and Lines and Lines and ...

Libraries. Places where knowledge abounds and is limitless. Sources of wisdom and inspiration, solitude and reflection, investigation and discovery. And raptor books.

One fantastic aspect of my research has involved trawling libraries in search of texts that relate to my topic. However, I cannot be blamed for any side-tracking on birds of prey other than hawks. A favoured rainy day pastime, delving into a world of the feathered fearless has seen me lose track of the hours on numerous occasions; falcon, hawk, eagle, kite, buzzard, kestrel or owl, the family does not matter. What matters is that these incredible birds capture one's heart and spirit and the amount of skill and pure instinct they posses is simply intangible for a feeble human to ever understand.

Great horned owl, Vancouver, Canada

"A raptor's vision is the sharpest of all living creatures ... In birds of prey, the eyes weigh more than the brain. The two eyes are twice as large as the brain itself." (Sy Montgomery, Birdology) I may not have the eyes of a raptor but I know the ones I see, be it on the page or on the glove, never fail to take my breath away.

Golden eagle, Terelj National park, Mongolia

Courtship Etiquette

"How necessary it is that the utmost caution should be exercised in forming our attachments."

Although the weather gives no hint of spring anytime soon, all avifauna is proclaiming it. 'The Etiquette of Love and Courtship' is a small pocket-book which carries advice for lovers, collected from the 1850s onwards. I feel a certain overlap between its' intended human audience and the more feathery-covered class of animals.

Some birds change their plumage in order to attract the best mate, and most often it is the male who is more brightly or intrically coloured:

"If the lady to whom you are paying your addresses is possessed of taste and discernment, you will act properly in submitting to her judgement with regard to your dress."

Some birds choose a different partner every season:

"The man who obtains the good graces of woman in general, is seldom worth the regard of any one in particular ... Of all before our observation, the most loathsome is the female coquette. Men are flirted with, and true affection becomes a sport."

Some birds* have (ahem) interesting mating behaviours:

"Some men are ever ready to disguise their real character and it is no easy matter for a lady to scan it. He may have all the traits of a gentleman - a handsome exterior and well-skilled in points of etiquette - but these are not sufficient to constitute an agreeable home companion."

* read up about stitchbird (hihi) mating behaviour sometime

Some birds mate for life:

"Domestic happiness can be secured by endeavouring to meet with a companion whose disposition, temper and whole deportment will bear the strictest scrutiny."

Birds cannot write, but instead sing to communicate with each other:

"Express your meaning as freely as possible. There is still something requisite towards the writing of a polite and agreeable letter and that is an air of good breeding."

Yes, just over a month to daylight savings, and those of the hollow bones are already preening, displaying, courting and ......... it seems some have been at it for a while!

Birdology

Today's been cold, grey, windy and frankly a rather dreary day. Putting the weather to good use, I curled up on the couch with a book I've been longing to read for a while. Birdology, by Sy Montgomery, is an exploration of the essence and nature of all things avian. Swaddled in a cosy blanket and fortified with a cup or two of chai, I have been lost in a world of hummingbird rehabilitation, pigeon racing and cassowary chasing.

If you have seen the YouTube phenomenon of Snowball, the sulphur-crested cockatoo dancing, you'll be interested to read the chapter regarding him and other parrots that talk or have a notion of rhythm, something which has only recently been accepted in the scientific world.

But by far my most favourite of chapters was on raptors (surprise surprise). As the author writes, "Birds are wild in a way that we don't experience in our relationships with our fellow mammals. And nothing, I found, brings us closer to the pure wildness of birds than working with a hawk."

Reading this section brought to mind all the times when I have been awed by these carnivores of the sky and the realisation of being privileged indeed to study them and try to understand a part of their world.

Indulgence

In the last couple weeks, two friends have been kind enough indulge my weirdness and complete change into scientist. Transcripts of the conversations follow ...

'J' sent me a text message about how he was driving down out of Auckland for work for the day. I reply with a comment on all the harriers to be seen out in the country. J responds with "I almost hit one with the ute."

Me: um, ok, so I know this is a bit weird, but if you should hit one, or if you find one ... could you collect it for me?

J: yeah no worries

'S' tells me "I think I saw a dead harrier just before the motorway onramp on my way home."

Me: oooh, I'd love it. Can you drive by slowly tomorrow and get a better look?

(The next day)

S: sorry, I didn't get a chance to stop this afternoon. I was gonna go at lunch, but then I thought what would I do with it for the afternoon.

Me: don't you have a freezer at your work??

S: yes, but I don't think my workmates would be very happy if I did that

What surprised me the most about these two conversations was that both friends were quite unconcerned about it all. It is not a normal, everyday occurrence to collect dead birds off roadsides and neither of them seemed to bat an eyelid over my request. In the end there was no collection of specimens, which I feel is a good thing for our friendships, as I'm sure they both secretly think I'm mad and delivery of a bird carcass would have only served to confirm their suspicions!

The Leg Bone's Connected to the ...

Rainy day = no birds flying; but somewhere in my freezer the vomit awaits . . . "To the laboratory!"

Pellet analysis, I have learnt, is a very time-consuming task (and, in all honesty, can be a bit whiffy). At least 2-3 hours per pellet, up to 5 hours if it's a biggie. I have also learnt that you can bruise your eye sockets from getting too up close and personal with a microscope for long periods of time.

Painstakingly pulling apart masticated fur and feather barbs, tiny treasures (we're talking small amounts of millimetres here) such as claws, teeth, vertebrae and leg bones have been discovered. It's kinda like delving into your santa stocking on Christmas morning (kinda), you don't know what you're gonna get.

I've spent quite a few sessions in the lab now; each time I come away with little specimen jars containing an assortment of bird and rodent bones, fur and feathers, all bagged and labelled before return to my freezer (my flatmates are very understanding).

Here's a small selection of photos to share my lab-time fun with you (NB: the rat skull was not found in a pellet - it is there for comparison purposes only!).