Over the past few weeks, I’ve not been in there area, regularly, and so missed out on spotting their eggs. Yesterday, I laid down on the prairie, to take a photo, while being screeched at for getting so close to her and his nest.
I adore that screech, not because it is a beautiful sound, but because I understand the layers of meaning it has. Yesterday, before I was close enough to catch sight of their nest, a began hearing a distant screech. As the sound drew closer, but before I could catch sight of the hawk, a second and even more distant screech sounded. My delight wasn’t in being able to irritate the two, but rather their mutual sounding of the alarm hinted at something wonderful was in the nest.
I wish that I had a good camera for even a meager distance. Dad’s old Jana 7×35 gave me a better view of the eyas you can barely see in this photo. My iPhone 6 photo is good but nowhere close to clear enough for you. I promise you that’s not a carcass. Only as I took a closer look was I able to see it’s sparse white downing protruding through its’ new dark feathers. This fledgling is crouched as mom and dad circle above screeching. Through the binoculars I watched it twisting its head to keep on eye on the parents flying overhead, but making no other move.