"Quiet Kill -- A Brief Interlude"
by Marci B

Life is amazing and wonderful--but also tragic and sad. I do believe that everything happens for a reason in the grand scheme of existence. Just two days ago, my good friend Bobbie prepared me for what was going to be a somewhat traumatic experience.

As many of my friends know, I am an avid birder. My relatively small backyard is only part of a strip of wooded land that lies on the other side of the bordering white, wooden fence constructed by the builder. Our yard has been a haven for many songbirds, chipmunks, squirrels, and other critters. In a quietly serene environment, they have enjoyed the many seeds and other treats provided for them. Lately, there has been at least one hawk that seemingly appears out of nowhere, sitting in a tree less that two feet from the gazebo feeder.

Last week, I chased this large predator away. At that time, it occurred to me that this hawk may have been the culprit who left a massive pile of dark grey bird feathers in a pile in the backyard some time ago. When I shared my suspicions about the feather mystery to my good friend Bobbie, she reminded me that no matter how much I love songbirds that hawks and falcons are also beautiful birds, and that they also must eat and feed their young.

You know, that is what friends are for--to sometimes give us a gentle slap, causing one to step back and look at the bigger picture. Bobbie was so right. The falcon is a beautiful bird of prey. I thanked her for the words of wisdom, and felt relieved that I had been reminded of the reality of life--and death.

Just before noon today, I walked into the family room expecting to spend another quiet Saturday birdwatching, and animal watching. Suddenly, there was a flash and flurry, and something flashed across the yard. It all happened so quickly. I remember seeing the fleet-footed chipmunk dashing under the overhanging leaves into the brush under the large oak. I do not remember seeing anything else.

But, at that moment, there was such a rustling of leaves, as I watched, I mused to myself that the chipmunk was having a battle with a larger foe--perhaps one of the destructive squirrels that pulled down some of our feeders. However, much to my dismay, and in another flash of reality, the beautifully marked wing appeared. The large peregrine falcon lifted off with the lifeless body of the chipmunk whose speed had not been great enough on this day. Most of the chipmunks have grown considerably in the three years we have lived here, but this was a smaller and younger one.

All of this occurred in less than a minute--the swooping down, the chase, and the kill. I was hysterical...screaming and crying for minutes. My son, Michael, came into the room and I managed to blurt out what had happened. "I didn't have to see that!" I cried. Chipmunks are my son's favorite backyard scamps. He sadly looked into the yard, but said nothing.

For a moment, I was traumatized since I have never seen raw nature and the scenario of prey and predator in action. For a few seconds, I had been part of this life and death struggle. Bobbie prepared me...somewhat, but I do not wish to see it again. I don't live in the woods...this is urban America, but urban America has drastically changed. As long as our wooded areas continue to be denuded, chopped down and removed, this will drive the magnificent birds of prey into our backyards for their survival.

In terms of my backyard sanctuary, I have removed the gazebo feeder since a hawk was seen perched near it a week ago. I would like to help prevent the birds from becoming sitting ducks, if possible. We have decided not to replace the thistle stick in the hanging feeder since it is out in the open.

The caged hanging feeder with the thistle sock inside will remain since our songbirds are somewhat protected inside the metal cage. The metal, squirrel-proof feeder stands firmly, but another area of vulnerability. We can only hope that the birds who feed here will remain vigilant. Hummingbirds enjoy the glass feeder with its red nectar. Let's hope that this continues.

Yes, Bobbie, the falcon is a beautiful bird of prey...and a swift and magnificent hunter. The struggle for life goes on. It is all so amazing and wonderful, and kind of sad.

Plant a tree,
Marci

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