Backyard Visitor

Since I put up our new bird feeder which is somehow more squirrel resistant than the last one, we have had a very diverse and abundant array of visitors. The more notable, and quite common to Virginia, are the red bellied woodpecker, a pair of titmouse (titmice?), a pair of chickadees, the local cardinals (Red and Ruby), a throng of sparrows (as many as 20 at a time), and the ever-present clan of local mourning doves (up to 8 at a time) some of which actually hatched in our neighbors tree and learned to fly in our backyard.

All of this activity has apparently not gone unnoticed. A couple months back I happened upon a little pile of feathers on the grass, which only recently replaced the cracked concrete that used to cover much of our yard. "Hhhmmm...." I thought, "Looks like we had a little scuffle..."

Of course my prior bird watching experience has led me to observe the fact that little piles of feathers rarely occur by themselves, and that mourning doves, the obvious owners of the feathers judging from their size and color, are among the most timid and unassuming of local species, and not very predisposed to scuffling as it were. In fact, they often present a very tasty morsel to local birds of prey.

What I could not figure out was how a bald eagle, osprey or red-tailed hawk could manage to maneuver between the telephone and power lines and make a crash landing on the roughly thirty square feet of lawn, which also contains furniture and very often a large black lab. Knowing all of these to be quite common in the area, it seemed unlike them to be brazen enough to attempt attacking such a small prey in a confining and fairly urban space. "Well," I thought to myself, "maybe I'll come across this visitor on one of his seemingly increasing lunchtime visits."

It's one of those situations that we really don't think about until it happens. Everyday I have been enjoying the popularity of our new feeder, and even roused my poor wife from her sleep one Saturday morning to observe the red bellied woodpecker dwarfing the feeder with his graceful and majestic presence. "Isn't that exciting?" I asked, she not seeming to quite share my enthusiasm.

I am in the habit of coming home for lunch, as my office is not far, and so the other day happened to open the back door upon my arrival only to be greeted by yet another, and this time very large, pile of feathers. The only difference was that this time not far from the feathers was their owner, belly up and in the clutches of one of the most interesting little hawks I have ever seen, certainly up close. He stopped his feeding only momentarily while inspecting me and no doubt waiting to see what I would do.

I sat staring in wonder for a moment or two, long enough to observe the features of this lovely and apparently very dangerous fellow. He was in size about as large as a very large pigeon, and somewhat roundish. His coloring was very white with some grey and a few bars, though not very dark or striking. I judged him in length to be about twelve inches, with possibly a two-foot wingspan.

I carefully shut the door, ran for my camera and cautiously peaked back out. He was still quite intent on his feeding and did not seem to mind when I snapped a photo or two from about ten feet away. He hung around for about twenty minutes until there was nothing left of the dove but a pile of feathers and one foot, and then vanished as quickly and mysteriously as he had come.That evening I consulted all my birding books, only to be as mystified as ever. "A sparrow hawk possibly..." I conjectured, but the coloring just did not seem quite right, too colorful and not enough white. Broad winged hawk? Still too large and rather dark in the face. Ultimately after much further and equally frustrating research I have settled on the possibility of a Merlin.

This would seem a fitting name for the magically mysterious little sprite, although I am still not quite convinced. Some of the kite species seem to be whiter in color, although I did not come across one in my research that was known to be local to the eastern coast, or seemed to match the size and coloring of my backyard predator. Of course I realize that the younger of some species don't quite have the full coloration of the adults, and that females and males often differ in color, but still nothing I saw in my subsequent research was quite convincing enough to provide what they call a "positive identification."

Needless to say the activity at the bird feeder has been somewhat diminished of late, although I have no doubt it will pick back up again. And when it does I may yet have another chance to observe our little predator. After my photographs are developed, and assuming they are clear enough I may consult the opinion of an expert on local hawks and falcons, but until that time I am happy to remain uncertain as to the proper name of my little friend.