Less than a mile from our doorstep was once known as Sand Springs. For many it was a place of gathering, resting, trading, and, most importantly, water. Before Europeans arrived, people of different bands would meet there. After Western civilization arrived, it wold become an important stopping point along the way elsewhere. Settlements were started, died out, and started again.
A town eventually appeared and the springs were impounded to create a reservoir. The reservoir was replaced last century with a much larger one. The lake is now a small community fishing spot, with a park and trails around it.
Surrounding the lake and throughout our neighborhood is a hardwood forest typical to this area. On the west and south sides, the woods thrive. There is much in it, birds and animals, remains of old settlements, wild fruit and vegetables. Life goes on in it unaware of what we do around it. If you take the time, and are not too worried about poison ivy, there is a lot to find.
For many years now, we’ve enjoyed the presence of red-shouldered hawks in this wood. They greet us and follow us as we walk the trails or explore the rest. We know their nesting sites and watch as they raised their young. I remember being told by an “expert” that there were no red-shouldereds in this area and I was mistaken. I tried to share the joke with the hawks, but they were unimpressed.
Red-shouldered hawks are one of many of the broadwinged hawk family. They live in woods like ours and eat things that live near creeks. they have a shorter life span than most hawks their size, possibly because of the parasites and nematodes they accumulate in their diet. we know they won’t last forever. we also know that for anything that lives outside the domain of our sentimentality, the ending of a life is rarely peaceful.
I knew on Thursday when I got the call that I would be picking up one of the pair we’ve watched for so long. The man who called said he had a small eagle down in his backyard and crows were on it. He lives on the east side of the lake. Most people don’t know what they see and hyperbole is a common element in their description of what they see. I knew it what it was anyway.
It was the male of the pair. You could tell from his feet and beak that he was old for a hawk of his kind. I don’t know what brought him to the ground, but the crows had worked him over. He was dying. He had enough left for one defensive posture to fight me off and then had two seizures. That was his end.
It’s a little quieter in the wood, but not for long. There will be other pairs and other offspring. Good habitat doesn’t stay empty for long.
For my own sentimentality, I’m glad to have seen him through. I’m glad to have been able to thank him.
Later today I will release a female barred owl into the wood. Then I will clean the cages and get ready for a juvenile great horned owl. After that comes a pair of red-tails. The stream of hawks and owls continues. For that I am also grateful.
What I do doesn’t make a difference statistically. There’s no science to back it up and no endangered species are being saved. On the surface it seems to be a lot of effort for nothing. I do not worry if someone else doesn’t understand.
Every day I take the gift of life from all around me. I take the water, the air, and the food. I live because I take from life.
The very least I can do is give something back.
