Subject: Peregrine vs. Killdeer
Date: Sep 16 12:13:54 2002
From: Dennis Paulson - dpaulson at ups.edu


This story is from Herschel Raney, an acquaintance of mine from Arkansas.
He usually sends me dragonfly stories as fun to read as this bird story,
but I've encouraged him so much that he gives me the pleasure of reading
about some of his other observations now. As this is a bird group and a
family list, I'm sure, I didn't send you his account of Snapping Turtles in
Love.

> While making my way back from southeast Arizona I stopped at Bitter
>Lake NWR in New Mexico. I was paused on the roadway to admire a dragonfly
>when low across my windshield at less than 30 feet of altitude comes the
>angles and speed that signal 'falcon'. Uncharacteristically, I have seen
>the she-falcon before the shorebirds and the teal have. I bail out of the
>car with the binoculars. The bird is just then cutting into some deeper
>speed right over me and showing the black lines of a juvenile Pacific
>race Peregrine. It is only seconds after this that the snackbirds catch
>on and everything comes up off the flats. This young falcon goes right
>for the teal group of about 30 birds. It seems relatively easy for her to
>make a powered swoop above them and west of their zigging and zagging
>before they go into the full panic of 'plan C' and the whole duck group
>hits the shallow water deck at full speed. It is impressive how they all
>submarine and vanish for a brief moment after the splash. The falcon
>wheeled, surely having seen this before. You know the ducks were wishing
>for less bouyancy. They would have hidden down there with the frogs if it
>was possible in the thick black mud. But alas, this is earth, and they
>all pop right back up. They immediately take off toward the east and the
>falcon is again above them. She doesn't have much altitude though.
>Perhaps it is inexperience. An older falcon might have soared quickly up
>to some stooping viewpoint. This falcon just tries to turn and speed up
>to the ducks. But between the wheeling shorebird flock and the stressed
>teal wedge she loses her focus somehow. Everyone gets away and the falcon
>just plops down on a sandbar. She appears to be tearing at some grass
>or pulling at one of her talons in frustration. This is before she simply
>cants right back on her vent. She looks much less dangerous tilted back
>like that on her tailfeathers. I see the Killdeer about the same time she
>does. It is less than ten feet away from her on the sandbar. Poor thing
>must have finally panicked at the sheer horrific range of the
>demon-falcon-killer-thingey. This after it had hidden so well there in
>the grass during the flyovers. 'Please Mommy don't let it see me', being
>its prayer. But once it breaks, the falcon is on to it. The big bird
>raises its wings and runs over toward the Killdeer. The Killdeer does a
>180 and tears down the opposite direction. It has been smart enough all
>along not to fly. But this is the nightmare of Killdeer. A looming black,
>blood-beaked, hopping monsterbird chasing it around on the sand. I am
>here to tell you that a Killdeer on foot is faster than a Peregrine.
>Though I don't think the Killdeer knew this. Not at first. The problem
>was the sand bar was only so long. The Peregrine hopped/wobbled ominously
>over at the Killdeer first towards one end of the sand spit and then the
>other. The little shorebird just kept ahead. Over and over. The falcon
>actually raised its talon and tried to grab at the tiny shorebird a few
>times. This just looked comical to me. I doubt it was funny to the
>Killdeer. By this time there was not a single other bird on this big flat.
>Just these two and me. I'm sitting down. And the falcon eventually just
>sat down as well. It lifted its talon pitifully now and then. The
>Killdeer just hunkered near the end of the spit. Having a really bad day.
>Or a really good one. Maybe he'll realize which one later on. At my
>range I couldn't tell if the falcon was weaping or just giving up and
>taking a nap. It didn't scream or fly off. When I looked back on them
>later, before I had to head further east, they had not moved. The wind
>from the south was raising feathers on both birds. A storm had passed us
>all to the northwest. After I left, I guess night just fell around them
>like the curtain on a small new myth. I thought about these two all the
>way back home. Herschel