It is Christmas afternoon, and it seems like a fitting time to explore what the strong south winds of the previous several days had stirred up - this is often a wonderful time for birding since it is common for unintended visitors to be blown off course by storms.
While driving through a marshy area near the coast, I spotted her - a lovely, adult female Northern Harrier, working the dense grass in hopes of a Christmas dinner. I watched her dive into the grass several times, but each time, she came back up empty.
Northern Harriers are unique in a number of aspects. They are sexually dimorphic - the plumage of the adult males and females are distinctive with the males being nicknamed the "gray ghost" for their light-colored dress and the females being a much more subdued brown - ideal for their also unusual habit for a raptor of nesting on the ground (often hidden inside a dogwood thicket!). However, something I find even more amazing is that unlike most birds of prey who rely very heavily on vision for their hunting, the Northern Harrier uses hearing as it's main sense. While watching this bird work the grass, I was able to see her slightly maneuver her head left and right, triangulating where sound was emanating from. Their physiology dramatically helps with this - they have somewhat flattened facial disks (much like owls) with stiff feathers that direct sounds to the ears, maximizing the effect. When watching them, it is quickly evident that their flight style is not the "dive and grab" of your average hawk but rather a floating motion, with wings tipped up in a V-shape, gently rocking back and forth as they slowly survey the grasslands looking for small rodents and birds. This time of year, meadow voles make up the bulk of their diet, but of course, they won't turn down mice, shrews, birds, and even rabbits. They have been known to drown larger prey such as ducks. Perhaps I should retract the adjective "slowly survey their territory" as I attempted to follow her hunting pattern on foot, and wound up thoroughly winded in the pursuit. So I cheated, returning for my car as I attempted to catch back up with her! What looks slow is, indeed, quite relative.
Northern Harriers are a species of special concern in Maine, and may be declining because of the loss of the undisturbed grasslands with thick vegetation needed for them to hunt. Watching them through the winter is an amazing treat, and during the breeding season, the male does a series of steep ascents, drops, and aerial barrel rolls. When feeding the chicks, the male and female also do a sky dance food exchange - where the male calls to the female to alert her of the incoming delivery and then drops the prey. The female flies up to meet him, flips over backwards in mid-air, and catches the meal for the chicks. And we think we put a lot of work into dinner! I think of what this intense effort just recently past as I root for this female to be successful on her next dive into the grass. Is she?
And no, this dive was also unsuccessful. Undeterred, however, she circled upwards again, about 3 feet over the dense grasses, and resumed her patrol. All worthwhile things in life require effort, and a rodent snack is apparently no exception, even when you have amplifiers mounted on your face to help hone in on the sound. Even temporarily defeated, this graceful, charismatic ambassador flies on, representing the least common of our native hawks. And visions of meadow voles dance through her head.......
Shortly after sharing the hunt with the Northern Harrier - I came across this small bird hunkered down out of the strong wind near a private pier. Do you know who it is? If you'd like the answer -- check out my Instagram Page!
