Humming Birds and Northern Goshawk

Spring 2005

The first day of Spring! A week ago the Broad-tailed hummingbird arrived from his long journey North. I heard his whistling flight on the front porch where he was checking out the empty feeder. I filled it fast and watched as he settled in for a drink. His scarlet red bib twinkled in the sun as he bobbed his head up and down -- and then he was off faster than the eye can follow to start work on his nest.

Up at this altitude (7,400) we measure spring by the arrival of the first hummingbird. Now we know there may be a few more frosts and a couple of wet snows but they won’t usually last long. In past years we had up to a dozen hummingbirds at the feeder and the air would be filled with their courtship flights - males rising high in the air and then a piercing whistling as they dived back down to earth, missing our heads my inches. The last couple of years we have only had about six to eight after the babies have grown.

We see two species of hummingbird: the Broad-tailed and the Rufous. That little red terrorist won’t arrive until August but when he does all hell breaks loose. Until then, it is pretty sedate at the feeder. This weekend, working out on the deck in glorious Colorado weather (75F with deep blue sky), a hawk glided close overhead. It’s underwings were a very light gray and its wings blunt and powerful. We have sometimes confused the ravens gliding and tumbling down in the valley with birds of prey but this was more serene and majestic - a Northern Goshawk.

There is something special about birds of prey. More than most birds, they cause a flurry of excitement, a wish to see more and get closer. Maybe it is those movies of medieval falcons on the wrists of lords or a primitive deep memory of being prey to flying preditors. The scene in the Lord of the Rings when the Hobbits are save by giant eagles stirs the blood. When I see a hawk or falcon, I know the natural world is still somewhat in balance.