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Falconry Terms

Falcon on Forearm Courtesy and Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
Falcon on Forearm
Courtesy and Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
In 1962, Rachael Carson rocked the bird watching world with her book Silent Spring. She identified the commonly used pesticide DDT as the culprit responsible for declining populations of eagles, falcons and hawks. Rachael was able to prove that once DDT got into the food chain, it fatally weakened the eggshells of these birds. DDT was banned the following year.

Would the raptor populations be able to respond? The answer to this question was spearheaded by Hawk Watch International. They recruited volunteers to camp out near Mendon Peak which overlooks a major flyway for migrating birds in the fall.

Armed with pencils and paper, these volunteers checked off each raptor that flew by. It was a tough camp, because once the snow melts, any water on top had to be carried up there. Sometimes my family and others would hike up and give them oranges. Every year the news got better. The raptor populations were rebounding. In 1999 they were officially taken off the endangered species list.

At this time, for most people in Utah, getting a close look at a raptor required a trip to the Hogle Zoo to see the bird show. COVID shut down these shows. But luckily, a young volunteer at the zoo, Nick Morris, stepped up, got the licensing needed to own raptors, and created a traveling show called Long Wing Inc.

When I was able to meet Nick on his home turf, he told me that in Shakespeare’s time, most every man owned some kind of raptor. The kings owned eagles. The nobility owned falcons. It was no accident that talk of falcons worked its way into the spoken language.

For example, falconers kept ankle bands on the bird’s legs attached to short study strings. Before flying their birds, falconers held these strings in a tight fist with their thumbs pressing down hard. This is why we say we keep things “under our thumb.”

Falcons were always easier to handle while being transported with a hood slipped over their heads. This led to our saying today that when someone does not see something clearly, he is “hood winked.”

Morning chores were underway when I showed up at Nick’s house. He carried each bird out into his driveway and put a piece of quail on a sawhorse. The bird was happy to hop over and eat it. Nick then put a piece of quail down the driveway on top of his fence. This was a chance for the bird to spread his wings and fly to the treat. Everything was going to plan until one bird took off and settled on the roof of the house. There were a few tense minutes. Nick admitted to me he had once had to chase a runaway bird all the way to Evanston.
Shakespeare captures a moment like this when Juliet is on her balcony and Romeo has walked away.

Juliet says, “Oh for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.” Once we know that a “tassel” is Shakespeare’s word for a male falcon, we can see that Juliet is seeing Romeo as a noble and beautiful creature. Juliet sees herself as the falconer, hoping that Romeo will return and possibly be tamed by her.
Just as Romeo ran back to Juliet, Nick’s bird came down from the roof.

Nick explained how falcons were not pets in the traditional sense. Falconry is an ancient sport going back thousands of years. In Shakespeare’s time, it was a way of putting food on the dinner table.

This is Mary Heers and I’m Wild About Utah

Credits:
Photos: Courtesy and Copyright Mary Heers,
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Mary Heers and Anderson, Howe and Wakeman.
Text: Mary Heers, https://cca.usu.edu/files/awards/art-and-mary-heers-citation.pdf
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah, Mary Heers’ Wild About Utah Postings

The Story of Silent Spring, Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), August 13, 2015, https://www.nrdc.org/stories/story-silent-spring

The Wellsvilles Hawkwatch Site, Bridgerland Audubon Society, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/our-projects/the-wellsvilles-hawkwatch-site/

Utah’s Hogle Zoo, https://www.hoglezoo.org/

Tracy Aviary at Liberty Park, https://tracyaviary.org/liberty-park/visit/programs/daily-programs-activities/

Falconry, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, Utah Department of Natural Resources, https://wildlife.utah.gov/hunting/main-hunting-page/falconry.html

Falconry terms in the English Language:

  • Bate: In falconry, “bate” refers to a hawk’s attempt to fly off its perch while still tethered. This has become “bated breath” in common English, meaning to be in a state of nervous anticipation or anxiety, according to Wingspan Bird of Prey Centre.
  • Fed up: A falcon that is well-fed has no incentive to hunt, leading to the term “fed up” meaning to be bored or uninterested.
  • Haggard: A “haggard” hawk is one caught from the wild as an adult, often difficult to train. In common usage, “haggard” describes someone looking exhausted or unwell.
  • Under his thumb: In falconry, this refers to the way a falconer holds the jesses (straps) of a hawk to control it. In general usage, it means being completely under someone’s control.
  • Hoodwinked: Originally, a “hood” was used to calm a hawk by covering its head. “Hoodwinked” means to be deceived or tricked, often subtly.
  • Rouse: A “rouse” in falconry is when a hawk shakes its feathers. This has evolved into the general meaning of shaking or awakening.
  • Pounce: A falcon’s “pounce” is its claws, used to seize prey. The word has entered common usage to describe a sudden, forceful movement.
  • Gorge: In falconry, a hawk “gorges” itself when it eats to capacity. This has become the general term for eating to excess.

    • Sources for Falconry terms in the English Language:
    Evans, Andrew, How falconry changed language, BBC. February 24, 2022, https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20170111-how-irish-falconry-changed-language
    The Language of Falconry, Wingspan Birds of Prey Trust, https://www.wingspan.co.nz/falconry_language.html
    Amy, Falconry terms in common language, Powered by Birds, February 26, 2010, https://www.poweredbybirds.com/falconry-terms-in-common-language/
    Assembled by Google AI https://ai.google.com

    Utah Falconers Association, https://www.utahfalconers.com/

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    Elkweed/Green Gentian

    Green gentian, Frasera speciosa, Courtesy US Forest Service, Teresa Prendusi, Photographer
    Green gentian, Frasera speciosa, Courtesy US Forest Service, Teresa Prendusi, Photographer
    In keeping with our nation’s 250-year celebration, Red, White, and Blue have decorated Utah’s higher elevations, from Tony Grove in the north to Cedar Breaks in the south. Sprinkled in between are mountain meadows carpeted with wildflowers, Indian paintbrush, penstemons, columbine, patriots of the loveliest hues. Additionally, nature’s erosional forces have created monuments found in our national and state parks on Utah’s Colorado Plateau, rivaling human-created monuments with their overpowering majesty.

    Green gentian, Frasera speciosa, Mt Nebo Scenic Byway (Nebo Loop), Courtesy US Forest Service, Teresa Prendusi, Photographer
    Green gentian, Frasera speciosa,
    Mt Nebo Scenic Byway (Nebo Loop)
    Courtesy US Forest Service, Teresa Prendusi, Photographer

    Green Gentian, Frasera speciosa Stalk, Courtesy USDA Forest Service, S Olson, Photographer Green Gentian, Frasera speciosa Stalk, Courtesy USDA Forest Service, S Olson, Photographer

    There is another monument found in the plant kingdom that towers above all others on our mountains and plateaus., frasera speciosa or green gentian. Upon first seeing this lofty flower, my senses were startled by its monumental size. On closer inspection, there were multitudes of exquisite blossoms adorning its tall stalk, with cream colors flowing into delicate green tips, with purple dots sprinkled throughout. The sepals, pistils, and stamens are no less striking. I stood in awe of this monumental beauty.

    Over the years since my first introduction, I became intrigued with its remarkable life history, spending up to 80 years as an inconspicuous rosette of leaves, referred to as elkweed. Then, in its final year of life, it launches itself into a burst of glory, shooting up a tall stalk garnered with stunning flowers.

    Given the size of its flowering stalk, it’s not surprising that a green gentian produces a large number of seeds. An average stalk is composed of 600 flowers and is capable of producing 66,000 seeds. When the plant dies, its leaves fall to the ground and decomposes, fertilizing nearby seeds, doubling its germination and survival chances compared with seeds dispersed further from the plant.

    When a green gentian flowers, some of its offspring will flower in 20 years, while others will wait 60 or more years. Montane and subalpine environments are highly variable, with precipitation, temperature, damaging frost events, pollinator populations, thus germination and seedling survival vary unpredictably. It appears that for a plant that will flower only once, having offspring flower from 20 to 80 years is a way of hedging its bets in an unpredictable environment.

    Research has revealed much about this fascinating and conspicuous wildflower, but it also demonstrates a fundamental fact in ecology. Long-term studies are necessary to identify some phenomena, such as synchronous and monocarpic-that is, dying after flowering-by Jeff Minton, a researcher.

    Green gentian has been used by multiple Native American tribes for a wide range of medicinal purposes, with documented applications spanning from sedative and digestive treatments to veterinary remedies, the plant’s fleshy root was eaten by indigenous peoples as well, although considered too bitter by the untrained palate.

    Parts of the Colorado Rockies are experiencing a super bloom of green gentian this year, which is interesting considering it’s been a record hot and dry winter-spring season. Many mysteries yet remain for this monument of nature.

    This is Jack Green for Bridgerland Audubon Society, and I’m Wild About Nature’s Monuments.

    Credits:
    Images Courtesy USDA Forest Service, Teresa Prendusi and S Olson, Photographers
    Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections and Anderson, Howe and Wakeman
    Text: Jack Greene, Bridgerland Audubon, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/
    Additional Reading: Lyle W Bingham, Webmaster, and Jack Greene, Author, Bridgerland Audubon, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

    Additional Reading:

    Jack Greene’s Postings on Wild About Utah, https://wildaboututah.org/author/jack/

    Gentian Family, Yellowstone’s Photo Collection, Yellowstone National Park, US National Park Service, https://www.nps.gov/features/yell/slidefile/plants/gentianfamily/Page.htm

    Utah Rare Plant Guide, Utah Rare Plants, Utah Native Plant Society, https://www.utahrareplants.org/rpg_species.html (search lower on the page for “Frasera” or “Green Gentian”.)

    Footer, Tracey, A Sight for the Ages: Frasera speciosa is on Display in the Northern Wasatch Canyons!, Utah Native Plant Society, https://www.unps.org/segolily/Sego2023Summer.pdf

    Green Gentian, Utah Species of Greatest Conservation Need (2025), Fieldguide, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, https://wildlife.utah.gov/pdf/wap/2025-12-sgcn-list.pdf
    By County List: https://wildlife.utah.gov/pdf/wap/2025-12-sgcn-list-county.pdf

    Rascoe, Ayesha, A rare flower is in a superbloom in the Rocky Mountains, Weekend Edition Sunday, NPR,
    July 5, https://www.npr.org/2026/07/05/nx-s1-5877757/a-rare-flower-is-in-a-superbloom-in-the-rocky-mountains

    Frasera speciosa – Green Gentian/Elk Weed/Monument Plant, First Nature, Wales, UK, https://www.first-nature.com/flowers/frasera-speciosa.php

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    Summer School: How to Make Tent?

    Writers at work. Jackson Lake sunset Grand Teton National Park Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
    Writers at work.
    Jackson Lake sunset
    Grand Teton National Park
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
    Years ago, when I taught at Mount Logan Middle School in northern Utah, we ran two-week outdoor-based summer school programs. The model, “Bringing Literature to Life,” was the mastermind of two now-retired teachers, Dave Anderson and Bryce Passey.

    Students on the move. High Creek Mount Naomi Wilderness Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
    Students on the move.
    High Creek
    Mount Naomi Wilderness
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    On the Trail Mount Naomi Wilderness Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer On the Trail
    Mount Naomi Wilderness
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    High Creek Trail Mount Naomi Wilderness Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer High Creek Trail
    Mount Naomi Wilderness
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    High Creek Trail Mount Naomi Wilderness Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer High Creek Trail
    Mount Naomi Wilderness
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    A student reads a book during a trail break Mount Naomi Wilderness Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer A student reads a book during a trail break
    Mount Naomi Wilderness
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    Writing on the trail Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer Writing on the trail
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    How to Make Tent Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer How to Make Tent
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    High Creek Lake Mount Naomi Wilderness Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer High Creek Lake
    Mount Naomi Wilderness
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    Crossing the High Creek Mount Naomi Wilderness Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer Crossing the High Creek
    Mount Naomi Wilderness
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    Sunset Moonrise Grand Teton National Park Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer Sunset Moonrise
    Grand Teton National Park
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    Wes, the 6th grader who reshaped what I believed was possible Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer Wes, the 6th grader who reshaped
    what I believed was possible
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    Teachers offered a variety of summer courses around this theme—all were funded by grants. Each session was based on a book. The idea was to bring the book to life. For example, a couple of technology teachers read October Sky with students and built and launched rockets on the soccer field. PE teachers offered a course called Extreme Sports. They read Maniac Magee and played all the sports Maniac plays in the book. Other courses, like “Say it with Puppets,” were offered based on teachers’ expertise and interests.

    These summer school programs were offered to incoming sixth graders as a way to build their confidence, boost their reading skills, familiarize them with the middle school, foster friendships with peers, and build trust with teachers. Learning was fun and engaging and over the years, thousands of students fears and anxiety of transitioning to the middle school were dissolved.

    Dave, Bryce, John Gregory, and I offered a course called “River Rats.” The first week students learned to canoe, hike, and spent two days backpacking up High Creek to Naomi Peak. This is a brutally hard trail for first time eleven and twelve-year-old backpackers, but we had a system. We’d walk until they were tired. Then we’d sit down in the shade, pass out snacks, and read a chapter or two of a book. When kids began to fidget, we’d shoulder our packs and hike again. We repeated the pattern for about eight hours until we arrived at our campsite. By the end of the day, kids didn’t realize how far they had traveled, they just knew they were tired. We also taught writing throughout the session—a favorite aspect of the curriculum for me.

    The second week of “River Rats,” we camped in Grand Teton National Park for three days, paddling canoes on String Lake, hiking to Taggart Lake, and rafting mild sections of the Snake River. Weaving in our literacy theme all the while.

    We ran two to four sessions of River Rats each summer for thirteen consecutive years. Memories abound of students who had major breakthroughs, of wildlife encounters, of learning moments, of rocks stashed in packs, and connections with people and the land.

    A half dozen Cambodian refugees signed up for River Rats one summer. They spoke hardly a word of English and didn’t have any idea what they had actually signed up for. But they showed up every day and smiled and laughed and learned and made friends. I still remember their names and their faces. One, who I encountered years later, was completing her degree to become a teacher.

    Another summer, three Chinese boys (whose parents were teaching Engineering courses at USU for a year), stood around a tangled mess of tent poles and tent parts in a high mountain meadow. Perplexed, one of them said to me, “How to…..make tent?” All of us burst out in laughter and I helped them “make” their tent in the yellow-orange alpenglow as a Cache Valley summer sunset lit up the sky.

    We have stories of accommodating kids in wheelchairs, of kids building friendships across cultural barriers of all kinds. There were kids in tears who wanted to give up, kids who were terrified of water, kids who had never camped—but each found the strength to rise up and complete the journeys.

    One summer a parent reached out to me before a session and said that his son had a prosthetic leg. I explained that his son should be able to do everything except for the overnight backpack.
    “Oh, he’ll be fine,” the father said, “Just treat him like any other kid.” And we did. The boy didn’t mutter a single complaint the whole way, over ten miles of trail and 4,500 feet of elevation gain—with a full pack on his back.

    I gained a new hero that week.

    I became an educator because I hoped to have an impact on future generations—but I did not anticipate the profound impact my students would have on my own life.

    I’m Eric Newell and I’m wild about Utah and the power of outdoor programs in public schools to change lives.

    Team Work Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
    Team Work
    Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

    Credits:
    Images: Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
    Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © J. Chase and K.W. Baldwin as well as Anderson, Howe, and Wakeman
    Text: Eric Newell, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University
    Additional Reading: Eric Newell & Lyle Bingham

    Additional Reading

    Wild About Utah Pieces by Eric Newell

    Spinelli, Jerry, Maniac Magee, Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, November 1999, https://www.amazon.com/Maniac-Magee-Jerry-Spinelli/dp/0316809063

    Hickham, Homer, October Sky, Dell, February 16, 1999, https://www.amazon.com/October-Sky-Coalwood-Homer-Hickam/dp/0440235502

    Mount Logan Discovery Google Site: http://MountLoganDiscovery.org/

    Mount Logan Discovery on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mountlogan.discovery/

    Mt Naomi Wilderness is part of the Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest, USDA Forest Service, https://www.fs.usda.gov/r04/uinta-wasatch-cache

    Grand Teton National Park, National Park Service, US Department of the Interior, https://www.nps.gov/grte/learn/index.htm

    How to Set Up a Tent, Expert Advice, REI Co-op, https://www.rei.com/learn/expert-advice/tent-set-up.html

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    I’d Like to Report a Murder

    Pixabay - The American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos), Courtesy Pixabay, Alexas Photos, Contributor
    The American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos), Courtesy Pixabay, Alexas Photos, Contributor
    Driving the return road from our family’s trip to Goblin Valley, I scoured the lonely San Rafael landscape, searching for something to keep me alert.

    Suddenly, a shadow peeled off the ground and drifted into the sky. Was that an eagle?

    A second later, I sighed. That was no eagle. It was a blasted crow.

    You should know two things about this moment: first, as I would discover later, considering its size, solitary nature, and rural location, I was more than likely seeing a raven, not a crow. The other thing you should know is that at this time in my life I had a festering contempt for any bird of the corvid variety—corvid meaning crows, ravens, magpies … Our troubled past has its roots in walking to my work at Sky View high school and feeling personally targeted by the local murder, the term for a grouping of crows (tell me that your species is despised by the human race without actually telling me).

    This murder lounged on the roof above my classroom and cackled at me in a way that seemed like obvious derision. I reciprocated anytime we went outside and we would heckle back and forth. I’d try to scare them off with some weakly tossed pebbles and sticks.

    It should be no surprise then, that the Raven outside Goblin Valley brought disappointment verging upon abhorrence. Whether on roofs, bare trees in the winter, or even in the middle of nowhere deserts, crows are freaking everywhere I go!

    And that is when it hit me. The only two animal species in this desolate landscape at this moment were humans … and corvids. Perhaps crows, ravens, magpies are so ubiquitous because they are intrinsically connected to one other species: humans.

    Perhaps, just as crows followed humans to a wide-range of environments, they also adopted some of our best and most regrettable traits along the way.

    In spite of those human-like faults, like greed, bickering and pestering, they also reflected some of our better qualities of ingenuity, community, and interspecies regard.

    I begrudgingly saluted the raven, now a speck in the rear view mirror, and decided to reset my views of corvids. I reasoned that if I could not show crows respect, then how could I respect my own human race?

    I decided to track down an expert. Dr. Becky Williams from the Utah State University biology department in the Uintah Basin extension, was kind enough to allow some amateur questions from me.

    First, Dr. Williams assured me that crows are “aggressive territorial predators.” One could see how they might see a rooftop on the school and surrounding area as their own domain, and defend it aggressively against intruders! Hard to criticize a bird for that, when there could not be a more territorial predator than our own species.

    When I spoke to Dr. Williams about the versatility of crows—their habitat reaches nearly as wide range of locations and climates as humans—she talked about a big reason being their intelligence. Corvid birds are smart, and that means that they don’t need as perfect an environment because they can come up with clever ways to survive.

    Crows have bigger brains than their fellow fowl. They can remember thousands of different cache locations for seeds or other foods. They can even remember faces. Dr. Williams directed me to a study where crows recognized a unique human mask that researchers used in their interactions with a particular murder. When she told me this, I had no problem confirming what seemed to me a very targeted pestering from the same crows over several years.

    This intelligence, Dr. Williams explained, tended to show itself in social animals: Crows, dolphins, humans … all spend a majority of their time in communities. The complex relationships of those communities causes them to need to remember who is a cooperator and who is a cheater. In other words, they make an in-group of those who work together, and they hold a grudge. What’s more human than that!

    Once this information shifted my views on crows, I knew that I lacked much needed reconciliation. The south Smithfield murder of crows and I had nursed our historic differences, and it was time that I made things right.

    When the murder showed up at their regular spot above my classroom, I tried meeting the crows outside. I wanted them to see my face as I gave them a snack. As soon as I reached into my pocket for a gift snack, they flapped off into the distance. My action of reaching for an object must have seemed familiar to them, as pulling things off the ground or out of my pocket was how I used to scare them off from before. They remembered the old me, and—as I had shamefully trained them—they retreated.

    Just a couple of days ago, after weeks of non-aggressive attempted interactions, one of the more daring crows overcame reticence and dropped to the ground to investigate the unsalted peanut I dropped for them. He looked at it, looked at me, snatched it and withdrew back to the tree.

    I am happy to report that now more of them are feeling comfortable picking up snacks I leave for them.

    Am I looking to create a utopian bond between these crows and me? No. Perhaps dropping an occasional peanut and not yelling at each other will be the best that we can get. But I feel an immense satisfaction in seeing these remarkable animals respond to my overtures and believing that we have mended a divide between us and possibly even cultivated respect.

    One of the biggest differences that I’ve noticed lately, is that when I step outside for my daily walk, no longer am I looking down to queue up the latest podcast with people cackling about political strife, or to take in media designed to ruffle the feathers of indignation of one group against another. Instead, as soon as I step outside, I look up. I’m looking for my new corvid friends—humbled, hopeful, grateful.

    This is Marty Reeder, and I am Wild About Utah

    Credits:

    Image: Courtesy Pixabay, Alexas Photos, Contributor
    Featured Audio: Courtesy Freesound.org): 210701 American Crows, caws calling, sparrows, robin, urban residential, TORONTO, 7am.wav by TRP, Thomas Ryder Payne. Sound designer, composer, musician. Based in Toronto. — https://freesound.org/s/616975/
    License: Creative Commons 0
    Text: Marty Reeder, https://skyview.ccsdut.org/
    Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

    Additional Reading

    Wild About Utah Pieces by Marty Reeder

    Strand, Holly, Crow vs. Raven, Wild About Utah, September 15, 2011, https://wildaboututah.org/crow-vs-raven/

    Kelly, Patrick, Greetings puny earthlings, Wild About Utah, September 28, 2020, https://wildaboututah.org/greetings-puny-earthlings/

    Boling, Josh, Josh’s Raven Encounter, Wild About Utah, June 11, 2018, https://wildaboututah.org/joshs-raven-encounter/

    Kolowski, Joseph, Outdoor Experiences in High-Def, Wild About Utah, June 10, 2024, https://wildaboututah.org/outdoor-experiences-in-high-def/

    Boling, Josh, The Language of Ravens, Wild About Utah, February 19, 2018, https://wildaboututah.org/language-of-ravens/

    How to Tell Crows and Ravens Apart by Sight and Sound, All About Birds, Oct 22, 2024, https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/similar-species-crows-and-ravens/