Category: Vertebrates

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Falconry

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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    Tenacious Beaver

    Beaver at Dam, Courtesy Pixabay
    Beaver at Dam
    Courtesy Pixabay
    The most important lessons I can give my daughter are not through me, but instead those found best in the wild. Though she can’t talk, I know she still listens. Though her childhood amnesia is inevitable, I know that neural circuits are still being formed. Those circuits will do her good one day.

    Our favorite lesson is in the tenacity of beavers.

    This winter, we took one of our favorite hikes through knee-deep postholing snow to one of our favorite beaver dams. The dogs trot ahead, sniff snuffing at the path, darting to the stream that runs alongside our trail and back, and lead us as they have many times before up the trail. When we come to the great beaver dam, one that assuredly took not just years but generations of beavers to build, we stop for a snack and water, and let our daughter sit quizzically in the springtime slush. I explain to her the parts of the beaver’s home: the dam, the lodge, how they store their food. She listens while she smushes snow in her mittens, neural circuits are formed, and we pack up to start the slushy walk back to the car. A good day’s hike and lesson. A Greek proverb is dusted off in my mind, that a society grows great when old men plant trees under whose shade they know they shall never sit. Those beavers are good Greeks, but likely poor hoplites.

    Later that spring, we return to the dam, our trail shortened by melted snow. Snow is gone from the trail, but still holding fast in the mountains above. The travel is easier, muddier, but the beaver Platonic Republic justly endures. I explain the parts of the Castorian city-state yet again, and explain what the beavers are doing now as we see fresh aspen fells. They’re collecting good sugars and preparing for their kits. Kallipolis endures, as it has, another year out of dozens of millennia, and even without a cud of pulp in sight. I wonder if beavers have oral traditions?

    Time then passes as we all pass through space, and summer buds, blooms, and begins to fade. The cattle have come, grazed, trammeled, and been driven off yet again. We return to Xanadu in the early morning before the sun beats hard. We can get even closer to the dam now that the Forest gates are open, and we prepare for our adventure. My daughter looks around excitedly and drinks water from her cup. The dogs look around excitedly at all the leftover cow pies to investigate. Luckily they’ve dried.

    We exit the car and make our short way to the beavers only to discover that tragedy has struck between spring and now. The dam has burst. Like the River Isen, a great work of nature has blown a hole in the waterkeep, and drained the promised pond. The shoreline has receded like a tonsure, the lodge’s secret doors exposed as if by moonlit ithildin, and the water flowing with Newtonian determination towards Great Salt Lake.

    It’s shocking at first, seeing this anchor of time heaved asunder, the work of generations of beavers up and smote by spring runoff. All that labor. All those lives well-lived. Perhaps not wasted, but at least now remembered with a sigh. I sigh out as well, and explain this all to my daughter. She listens, pulls on cow-mown grasses, synapses fire, and circuits connect. We complete our hike and eventually go home.

    Finally, early this fall we set off for the utopia-that-was once more. Colors have begun to change to golds and crimson. The air is more crisp; the heat more bearable. We saddle up in the toddler backpack, and see what there is to see of the beavers. We arrive to the wonders of hope and joy, and the tenacity of beavers.

    The dam it appears is not abandoned. The labor of generations is honored with the restoration of the work. Not in its entirety mind you, for that will again take years and perhaps generations, but the work is underway regardless. Greek thinking again prevails. Whether by purpose or itch it matters not, but slowly the pond is regrowing. The shoreline has risen to swallow back and douse bare earth, and the water is a bit more wine-dark. I excitedly show my daughter, who excitedly is playing with my hat, the work that has happened, and the work yet to do. The beavers will not quit when allowed to do so. They are tenacious little buggers whose teeth grow forever. We take it all in and continue our hike, and eventually go back home. A new proverb pops into my head. A society grows great when we get to work and, figuratively, give a dam.

    I’m Patrick Kelly and I’m Wild About Utah.
     
    Credits:

    Images: Beaver & Dam Image Courtesy Pixabay, Public Domain
    Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright Friend Weller, Utah Public Radio with and Anderson, Howe, & Wakeman.
    Text:    Patrick Kelly, Stokes Nature Center, https://logannature.org
    Included Links: Lyle Bingham, Webmaster, WildAboutUtah.org

    Additional Reading

    Greene, Jack, I’m a Beaver Believer, Wild About Utah, December 19, 2022, https://wildaboututah.org/im-a-beaver-believer/

    Bingham, Lyle, Welcoming Rodent Engineers, Wild About Utah, February 7, 2022, https://wildaboututah.org/welcoming-rodent-engineers/

    Hellstern, Ron, Leave it to Beaver, Wild About Utah, July 30, 2018, https://wildaboututah.org/leave-it-to-beaver/

    Leavitt, Shauna, Beaver–Helping Keep Water on Drying Lands, Wild About Utah, April 17, 2017, https://wildaboututah.org/the-beaver-helping-keep-water-on-drying-lands/

    Strand, Holly, Beavers: The Original Army Corps of Engineers, Wild About Utah, April 29, 2010, https://wildaboututah.org/beavers-the-original-army-corps-of-engineers/

    Goldfarb, Ben, Eager: The Surprising, Secret Life of Beavers and Why They Matter, Chelsea Green Publishing, March 8, 2019, https://www.amazon.com/Eager-Surprising-Secret-Beavers-Matter/dp/1603589082/ref=asc_df_1603589082/

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    Bass, Birds, Buddies, and Boats

    Joey, James & Jack Courtesy Joseph Kozlowski & Copyright Jack McLaren, Photographer
    Joey, James & Jack
    Courtesy Joseph Kozlowski & Copyright Jack McLaren, Photographer

    Wilson's Phalarope Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer
    Wilson’s Phalarope
    Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer

    Banana Boy James, Courtesy Joseph Kozlowski & Copyright Jack McLaren, Photographer Banana Boy James
    Courtesy Joseph Kozlowski & Copyright Jack McLaren, Photographer

    I sit on the front swivel seat of a drift boat gliding across the smooth water of Newton Reservoir. The sun begins to send morning rays of brilliance over the Cache Mountains. My only child, a 14-month-old boy named James, excitedly wriggles in my lap. Behind me in the captain’s seat is my long-time buddy, Jack McLaren. Jack and I met in graduate school where he was working on a doctorate in watershed sciences and fish ecology. Jack and I have been friends ever since, and any day fishing with Jack is one I cherish.

    Jack tells me the Largemouth Bass are on the other end of the reservoir, in the shallow, weedy water where they feast on any living creature they can find, primarily small Bluegill who nest in that area. Using two oars, Jack begins paddling the boat across the reservoir. James’ eyes are mesmerized by the turbulent water eddies that form around the oars with each stroke, and I peacefully observe the world and wings around me. Western Kingbirds, with their gentle yellow bellies and grey head, play chase games as they dive and duck from one cottonwood tree to another on the water’s edge; Bank Swallows make clicking and clacking noises like pulsing electrical wires from the steep muddy embankment where a healthy colony has formed; and Wilson’s Phalaropes do a mating display where the modestly colored male hovers in the air over the brightly colored female, bobbing up and down for nearly 5 seconds, before gently landing next to her.

    We reach the far end of the reservoir and begin fishing. Jack pulls a plastic green frog across the top of the water; I bounce a long, brown rubber worm with a neon tail under the water; and James, well, he grabs each bag of rubber worms from the tackle box and throws them over the side of the boat.

    Just as I finally distract James with a Banana, “THWAPPP!!” a splash sounds and a commotion in the water catches my attention. A hungry bass thought frogs were on the menu and was fooled by Jack’s lure. He reels in the bass and James and I look at the beautiful, greenish/yellowish creature with the distinguishable black stripe down the side. James, with a mischievous smile, courageously reaches out his pointer finger and gently runs it along the slimy, scaly body of the fish.

    We continue to fish and just take in the beautiful morning when the thought strikes me.

    “This little 14-month-old is going to be my new, best buddy for the rest of my life. Observing, respecting, being aware of, and appreciating nature has always been important to me. How do I pass this same kind of love and respect for nature onto my own son, the next generation, as my father and mother did to me?”

    To that, I don’t have an answer, but maybe, just maybe, James being mesmerized by the flow of swirling water eddies around oar paddles or him using his delicate finger to bravely stroke the side of a slimy fish may be just the right start.

    This is Dr. Joseph Kozlowski, and I am Wild About Utah!

    Credits:

    Images: Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer, Used by Permission
    Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections/kevin-colver and including contributions from J. Chase and K.W. Baldwin
    Text:     Joseph Kozlowski, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University https://edithbowen.usu.edu/
    Additional Reading Links: Joseph Kozlowski & Lyle Bingham

    Additional Reading:

    Joseph (Joey) Kozlowski’s pieces on Wild About Utah:

    Experiential Education Archives, Wild About Utah https://wildaboututah.org/tag/experiential-education/

    Hitchcock, Ed, 7 Tips for Fishing with Kids, Take Me Fishing, the Recreational Boating & Fishing Foundation, Nov 22, 2019, https://www.takemefishing.org/blog/november-2019/7-tips-for-fishing-with-kids/

    Community fisheries, Division of Wildlife Resources, Department of Natural Resources, State of Utah, Last Updated: September 12, 2024, https://wildlife.utah.gov/community-fisheries.html

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    A Tropical Flash in the Desert

    Collared Lizard near Hovenweep NM Courtesy US NPS Jacob W. Frank, Photographer
    Collared Lizard near Hovenweep NM
    Courtesy US NPS
    Jacob W. Frank, Photographer
    Not long ago, while walking up a gravel road in Bears Ears National Monument, my eye was distracted by a flash of brilliant, almost neon green against the red rocks and sand. Soon I got another glimpse, just as brilliant, just as green. If you’ve hiked the canyons of southern Utah, you may have already guessed what I was seeing – male Eastern collared lizards scuttling behind rocks to avoid a potential predator: me.

    Collared lizards are among the more common reptiles of the arid Southwest, and also one of the more interesting ones. They’re known for their sprinting ability, reaching speeds of 16 mph when they feel threatened, often running solely on their hind legs. They’re also highly territorial – if two males are placed in the same cage, they’ll fight to the death. But what captured my interest on that warm spring morning was their flashy coloration.

    More to the point, I was thinking that it didn’t seem to make sense for a desert animal to flaunt flamboyant colors. Most other desert lizards in Utah – whiptail and sagebrush lizards, side-blotched and fence lizards – are content to blend into the scenery. But male collared lizards look more at home in the jungle than in the desert, with blueish-green speckled bodies and tails, and a bright yellow head. Females are green, too, although their colors are more muted and often brownish.

    It’s not uncommon for males and females of a species to sport different colors. The scientific term for this is sexual dimorphism. You see it often in birds like songbirds and ducks. Males will flash bright hues – the sublime sky blue of a mountain bluebird, the blazing orange of a Bullock’s oriole, the exuberant red, black, and yellow of a Western tanager – while females of the same species tend to be grayish or brown or dull yellow, with just a hint of the male’s glory.

    This makes sense if the main purpose of coloration is camouflage. Female lizards are vulnerable to predators when bearing or caring for young, so there’s a survival advantage to matching their environment. First-year males are often colored much like females – helpful as they learn to fend for themselves. But shouldn’t the adult males want to blend in, too?

    It seems male coloration also has to do with babies, but in a different way. A conspicuous male is more likely to find a mate. He’s visible. He stands out. A female lizard can find him when she needs him. Brightness also helps these lizards in another way. Remember how male collared lizards are viciously territorial? Conspicuous, vivid color helps them avoid unexpected confrontations with other males.

    Of course, there’s a tradeoff here. If female lizards can easily find a male, so can predators.
    Some years ago, scientists took some toy lizards, painted them in collared-lizard colors, set them out on rocks in classic lizard poses, and watched to see what would happen. As we might expect, they found that if a lizard stands out in contrast to its environment, it’s more likely to be attacked by snakes, birds, or rodents. So it’s a good thing that in addition to being fancy dressers, collared lizards are also world-class sprinters.

    I’m Mark Brunson, and I’m wild about Utah’s colorful and camouflaged animals.

    Credits:

    Images Courtesy US NPS, Jacob W. Frank, Photographer, https://www.nps.gov/media/photo/view.htm?id=5B13C294-155D-451F-67F7-7D12491DF54D
    Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections and Shalayne Smith Needham https://upr.org/
    Text: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/
    Additional Reading: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/

    Additional Reading

    Other pieces by Mark Brunson: https://wildaboututah.org/?s=brunson

    Division of Wildlife Resources. Eastern collared lizard (Crotaphytus collaris). Utah species field guide. https://fieldguide.wildlife.utah.gov/?species=crotaphytus%20collaris

    Husak, J. F., Macedonia, J. M., Fox, S. F., & Sauceda, R. C. (2006). Predation cost of conspicuous male coloration in collared lizards (Crotaphytus collaris): an experimental test using clay‐covered model lizards. Ethology, 112(6), 572-580. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1439-0310.2005.01189.x
    https://sci-hub.se/https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1439-0310.2005.01189.x

    Strand, Holly, The Lizard and His Tail, Wild About Utah, June 11, 2009, https://wildaboututah.org/the-lizard-and-his-tail/