Wednesday, March 7, 2007

K is for Kestrel

I saw a kestrel the other day perched on the telephone wire, hunting, ready to take off and kill something. He knows it’s March, even though it was –10 degrees F (–23.3° C) when I woke up this morning. Very unMarchlike. I hope he found a yummy mouse or vole and is still out there surviving this.

I spotted a few kestrels over the winter, but one really starts to see them here this month, up on the wires, spaced evenly between territories. Tim and I can also count on seeing a pair every year in a farmer’s field behind our house. They nest in a tall dead elm trunk. More than once we’ve had our binoculars on them while they were mating. I’m not sure what that says about us, exactly, but I can’t say we weren’t into it.

4 comments:

Helen said...

I never understood why people became bird-watchers, but you're certainly presenting some convincing arguments.

Sabine said...

My grandfather called every bird of prey a chicken hawk. Too much bugs bunny, I guess.

Cedar Waxwing said...

Good one Indigo.

My 15 year old daughter was asking me the other day how birds mate. She's seen them do it, but cannot figure out the logistics.

Indigo Bunting said...

CW: I'm not sure I can either, really.