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The Winter Solstice: A Turning Point



We have just observed the Winter Solstice, long celebrated by people as seen in the Winter Revels. It means even more to raptors; is a turning point for raptors in the northern hemisphere. It can mean the difference between life and death.

The solstice represents the shortest day and longest night of the calendar year. Technically, it is when we receive the least sunlight in terms of total possible sunlight. Because the angle of the sun is so low on Dec 21/22, the earth that has been cooling since roughly the autumnal equinox, continues to cool off, even though the days begin to grow longer ever so imperceptibly. January is colder and more challenging than December. Our Redtails know that all too well. Long nights mean less daylight in which to hunt for food, but short, cold days make it necessary to find more food. The colder it is, the more food a Redtail needs to maintain its body heat. To remain alive. Mortality is a very real issue when you need more food, but you have less time to find it and it is more difficult to find. Many of the smaller birds are much farther south, gone for the winter. Small rodents breed every month of the year, rain or shine, snow or simmering heat. But they can be much more difficult to find in winter, when they can stay below crusty ice and banks of snow. Their food can be stored underground, or below the snow crust, so the field mice and voles don't necessarily have to expose themselves to the threat of hungry raptors.

Redtails become more dependent on larger, more accessible prey. Large birds. Especially pigeons. "Redtail Turkey." Big and meaty, with lots of muscle and nourishment . and liquid. And squirrels. Beefsteak on the hoof. One can feed a Redtail -- and possibly a pair --­ for a full day. The larger the prey you take the fewer prey you have to find. That's especially important after a day or two of snow and strong winds, when it may be hard to see, much less fly, and any intelligent rodent is snug in his burrow or nest. It also gives the female an advantage, because she is typically 15-25% larger and more powerful than the male and can therefore take larger prey -- and because she can do so, she can also feed less frequently.

The challenges of January and February ravage the juveniles. They have never been through this before. You're cold, and hungry. Food has been hard to find, and you find yourself in the middle of the first -- and maybe the last -- blizzard of your life. The snow and ice don't melt away a day or two after the storm. They remain. Does the raptor? The "fight or flee" syndrome. Do you risk everything by flying farther south in pursuit of warmer temperatures and more prey? Do you have the energy, the fat and muscle to achieve that goal? Or is it safer to stay where you are, wait out the weather, and hope you find more prey? Hawks literally bet the ranch in these conditions.

Thus, when snow flies and ice accumulates, we find hawks moving out and hawks moving in. And some just disappearing off the face of the earth. As snow accumulates in the fields and forests, smaller birds, such as juncos, move more towards human habitation, where they hope to find feeders. If goldfinches and winter finches are in good supply, they move from snow-covered fields to thistle stockings, as do accipiters, especially juvenile Cooper's and Sharp-shinned Hawks. Rivers freeze, and lakes, so falcons move towards the cities where one can find clusters of Starlings and Pigeons. More competition for Redtails. January and February can be rough, very rough for Redtails. For any hawks. Hawk mortality in the north is probably higher in those two months than any others, with the possible exception of June and July.

Buzz and Ruby appear to doing relatively well. Buzz is the more regular of the two, typically flying to the cellular antennas on 545 Fresh Pond Reservoir Place shortly after dawn. A month or two ago he went to the northeast corner. The past month or so it has been the northwest corner. He is typically there well before sunrise, facing north. Perhaps he, like me, is keeping track of when the male Peregrine first perches on the southwest corner of Rindge 3 and departs on his first hunting foray of the day. The two hawks clearly see each other. How important that is to them I don't know.

There has been very little direct interaction between the true hawks and the falcons. That is not to say that there isn't a psychological conflict raging. It's just not overtly physical. The most significant conflicts I've seen in months was on Sunday, November 10.

It was drizzling, following an overnight rain. Buzz and Ruby were perched on the Tria shortly after dawn, apparently hunting pigeons and, more likely, rats. About 6:41, the first pigeon scouts entered the mall and within a minute several tribes were occupying the CVS sign. For months everyone had ignored the famous CVS sign, but over the fall gradually all the pigeons began to look at the CVS sign as their preferred first perch of the day. A scouting party typically emerges from the roosts on Concord Lane, New Street, or Terminal Road, wheeling low beneath the horizon across the eastern Fresh Pond Mall and sliding up to land on the CVS sign, often accompanied by a Starling or two. Maybe the sign is actually warm from its light bulbs, meaning it is comforting to perch on on a chilly late fall and any winter day. Whatever, what once was ignored by all Columbidae in the area is now the preferred perch of the day, with tribe after tribe landing on the sign, often exceeding its carrying capacity. The surplus are sloughed off, like exfoliated skin, and drop down, recovering in time to fly to the nearby T-Mobile building roof, where they can watch their compatriots on the sign with apparent envy. This must be what the social ladder is like. After a while they might give up and circle over into Whole Foods territory, landing on the lamp posts there, at least until the Ring-billed Gulls come in and assert aerial dominance.

In years past as the first tribes of pigeons landed on the sign, Buzz and Ruby would frequently glide out of Fresh Pond woods, hidden by the horizon and the shadows of dawn, and strike at the newly arrived flock, who are usually absorbed in securing and maintaining their spot on a very crowded platform. Distracted. Usually Buzz would strike first, followed by Ruby a few wing beats later, better able to take pigeons that were bouncing off the sign. (The most directly threatened pigeons on the edge literally just leap off, like jumping off a bridge, and recover as they plummet to earth.) Those that leap up into the air and wheel in a flock actually seem more vulnerable to Ruby's follow-up attack, as she can cut across the fleeing flock. Buzz and Ruby are smart and experienced.

Two years ago they were regularly challenged for this pigeon sanctuary by the small juvenile male Peregrine, the "little ball of hate." (Named after Brad Marchand of the Boston Bruins, a player who is small, fast, and unusually capable of annoying anyone he wants to.) The young male got into obvious contests with Buzz and Ruby, at times attacking the first flock before they landed on the sign, to preempt Buzz and Ruby in their attack. This range war expanded into the falcon attacking them when they perched on the CVS sign, and eventually, when they perched on 185, in the line of fire from Rindge Towers. That male did not breed on Rindge, but was very protective of his hunting territory, and his first territorial hormones may have been behind his intense February attacks on the Redtails.

This fall the CVS sign is a pigeon sanctuary. I don't recall seeing Buzz or Ruby attack pigeons on the sign once. Same for the two Peregrines residing on Rindge Towers. The closest I've seen to an attack was Sunday, December 22, when a juvenile Cooper's Hawk struck at the sign from the south, flushing Rock Pigeons. Some observers thought the Cooper's wasn't even seriously hunting then. Just seeking the perch. It then dropped off the sign and flew below windshield level across Trader Joe's, Dunkin Donuts, and 185 Alewife, hoping to take some unwary bird by surprise. It failed. I've seen Buzz or Ruby actually perch on the CVS sign only several times at midday in the past four plus months.

But back to November 10. 545 Fresh Pond Reservoir Place is where Buzz makes his territorial statement these days. Buzz and Ruby rarely perch on the Social Security Building any more, though about a month ago we found them both sunning on the railing several stories up. They rarely perch on 185, although just over a month ago we found Buzz hunting small rodents around the base of 185, and he landed multiple times on the window railings that are part of the building's design. Buzz even landed on a bicycle parked by the lobby., as though he were going to join the cyclists pedaling down Route 16. But for the past three or four months, Buzz's territorial flag has clearly been planted on 545. Once, maybe twice a week, Ruby will join him on the building, but most of the time we do not see her. She is roosting and hunting somewhere on her own. This is a still a low-key time for them. The focus is on surviving. Buzz maintaining the territory and them surviving.

The same could be said for the couple to the north, the Peregrines. He regularly perches on the southeast corner of Rindge 3 (we number the buildings from west to east) as fingers of dawn begin to paint the eastern sky. Often he is the first bird I see moving. Like many of his prey, I don't actually see him move. He's not there, and the next time I look he is. A small dark protrusion on the top right corner of a monolithic shadow. And then he is gone. Almost always to the east or southeast. Only a minute or two later, he is back, often eating some small passerine that had just emerged with the dawn to start a new -- and final -- day. As with Ruby, I usually don't see the female falcon perched at dawn or sunrise. She OWNS Rindge 1, so that is where I usually see her perched on those rare occasions when I see her at all. If she is hunting, she usually flies north, and I rarely see her returning with prey. Apart from that incredible video pinball game I saw them playing about six weeks ago, I have rarely seen them together over the past several months. The few times have been primarily when he has had food and she has not. She flies to him and seemingly pleads or more likely demands his prey, or at least some of it. One day in October we had quite a show when she did this repeatedly, and he flew with his prey from corner to corner, while she pursued him on wing and foot, screaming. He eventually left something for her, but it appeared to be small and mere remains. She could not have been satisfied. Like many mated couples, for some time they appear to be together, but usually they are not. They are around the towers at dawn and dusk, but gone for much of the day in fall and early winter.

It seemed as though there was a turning point in interspecific relations on November 10. Both Buzz and Ruby perched on the Tria around 6:20. The first tribes of pigeons and first Ringbills emerged at 6:41. Ruby flew to the post behind Cambridge Wine and Spirits (CWS). At 7:01 the male Peregrine leapt off R3. Flying SSE, he made a sub-horizon pass at the pigeons on the New Street chimney, missing dozens. Fleeing for their lives, the pigeons flew towards Concord Lane, where they wheeled around Ruby sitting on her post, in basketball terms using her as a screen. The male Peregrine pursued his prey, wheeling within feet of Ruby as he chased the flock. He missed them all, and disappeared low over the Tria, headed towards Fresh Pond. The pigeons sought refuge in the Sozio sign and Ruby flew to the east side of Concord Lane, as though she just wanted to avoid all this hectic folderol.

At 7:08, the diminutive Peregrine was back sitting on the SE corner of R2 eating something small. Buzz was on the SW corner of the Tria, apparently looking for rodents, and Ruby returned unassumingly to her post. At 7:16, the Peregrine apparently stopped eating and flew to the fence of SE R1. Just as quickly, he left and flew to SE R3. Then R2, and back to R3. Unusual.

By 7:25 Ruby had moved to the northern edge of the Tria roof, where it looked as though she might be sitting on a recently taken pigeon. Suddenly, without any vocal warning cry the small Peregrine was diving right at Ruby. There were no screams. No talons were dropped, but his intent was unmistakably clear. Ruby leapt into the air, flashing her wings in the process, whether to get momentary lift or thrash the air in her immediate vicinity to prevent the falcon from coming closer is unknown. Whatever, the falcon made at least three, possibly four, short intense passes at Ruby, rocking back and forth like a hummingbird and then wheeled north, eventually landing on SW R3. Recovering her composure, Ruby flew to the NW corner of 545, where she sat next to Buzz on the antenna. The pair sat together on the antennas facing north. Buzz had seen it all, but had not come to Ruby's aid. I was a little surprised at that, but perhaps he thought that his larger mate, already on the ground (rooftop), was in a better position than he would have been in the air.

I thought that this might be the start of real territorial fighting, but I've not seen any suggestion of that in the six weeks that have followed. Of course, who knows what happens in the three hours of light each day that I am not there watching (just kidding), but there has been no indication of territorial conflict since then.

November 10 was not a turning point. But clearly, January should be. At the winter solstice. Bald Eagles in Florida and southern Texas were on their nests with small young or with eggs close to hatching. In California, Peregrine Falcons are returning to reclaim their nesting eyries, after almost half a year of disinterest. In Massachusetts, Great Horned Owls are feeling their hormones surge and are calling for or to their mates.

Several months ago Buzz and especially Ruby were apparently working on both of their nests, the new, unused nest on south Fawcett they began working on almost two years ago, AND the nest on north Fawcett they have used the two past breeding seasons. Both have shown signs of recent work, but both are surrounded by new manmade cliffs, apartment buildings that loom close by. Buzz and Ruby's territory has sprouted a veritable geologic cataclysm, with huge cliffs arising at Rte 2 and on Cambridgepark, as well as the mesa rising on Fawcett Street and a new butte springing out of the earth's crust on Wheeler. All this construction has dramatically altered their views from long, formerly favorite, perches. It's changed hunting lines, and it may alter their nest selection.

But Redtails are incredibly flexible and opportunistic. The next month will be one of challenge and change. The cold, the intense cold, the snow and ice, and the wind must be endured and overcome. If they make it through the coldest dark month, hormones will begin surging. Work on the nest of choice should resume. Buzz will become even more solicitous of his mate, as she must be well fed and healthy to prepare to lay eggs as the sunlight intensifies. On brisk but sunny days in February, they will be able to soar and lay claim to the air above Fawcett and Concord Lane. The winter solstice is the lynchpin that unleashes January and the hopes of February and March. It is a true turning point.

Best,
Paul M. Roberts
Medford, MA
phawk254@comcast.net