I was once, an aspiring falconer.
It was a long time ago. It almost happened , until both Master falconer, and apprentice got summarily fired (for no good reason) from our situations, and were scattered to the same winds of any who have to move quickly and without any resources to speak of. (I ended up in LaGrande. My sponsor ended up in a "compound" with those loony Montana Freemen. Google it, if it doesn';t ring a historical bell. They made the news.)
The end was a mess, but I retain even yet, sweet memories of hawking with friends on sweet cool, sunny autumn days. Sweetest times.
I learned the sport, somewhat.
Even before that, I had a short sub-contract job describing vegetation, and otherwise assisting in a general survey of vertebrate animals on a BLM district in far SE Oregon, It was a shitty survey,...Shitty boss. He was later jailed for some shit. I dont think I ever got paid for that job (Goddammit!)
Except in this: One of the most remarkable things I've ever seen.
Among other duties, I was tasked with live-trapping native rodents. After the various small mammals were documented, I would release them. Poor little nocturnal mousies would be dazzled and momentarily disoriented by the morning sun's brightness. By the second day of rodent grid, families of kestrels (clever little sparrow hawks) would accompany me on my trapline chores. They'd learned that I was a good source of easy hunting.). After a week, they were fluttering about my head, and hovering, waiting for their mousie treats.
I enjoyed it.
Decades later, I still remember.
A couple of years ago, I got a sparrow trap to get live meat for a Swainson's hawk I was readying for release (Yeah, bitches, I re-hab doomed birds illegally too. So call the cops!)
I captured an excess of introduced old world sparrows. I started offering these to my kestrel friends. And I got takers!
One winter resident female kestrel watched for me daily. When I ran out of live sparrows, she would take thawed frozen ones. When I ran out of frozen sparrows, she would take lean raw chicken. When I ran out of chicken, she would follow me around as I and my dogs kicked at the scrubby edges of fields to scare up a birdie for her to eat.
She wasn't the only one. I played a lot of kestrels and a few merlins, prairie falcons, coopers, and one very bold (hungry) young goshawk.
Most of the hawks I shared sport with were transients, and migrated on after a day or two.
But the female kestrel played from September till April. She recognized me, and she recognized my car, and would "wait on" when I arrived in her neighborhood. Sometimes I would'nt at once see her, but she always saw me.
That last April, she took up with a guy kestrel, and went away with him to nest. I saw her less and less. I still miss that female K-bird.
I still trap sparrows, and I still feed some wild hawks.
Last week a bold female kestrel came in for sparrows three days in a row. Game on!
