Sometimes I forget that I have a camera and I become mesmerized by the movements and behavior of the bird I am observing. In this case it was a male American Kestrel, Falco sparverius. These birds migrate through following their food source so arrive shortly behind the songbirds. The swamp has dried up enough now, allowing me to walk gently through on a moistened carpet of drying ferns, moss and wildflowers. As I took each step, the ground actually felt alive to me, giving way only an inch or so and bouncing back as I took my next one. I was stalking another stalker. I’m sure the kestrel knew I was watching but he was also watching his prey furiously grasp the insects off shrubs and grasses. I’m unable to tell which warbler it took but he was relentless. Flying down from his perch atop one of the skags, he moved about between the trees and shrubs as if they weren’t there with all the grace and skill of a martial artist. Finally, this predator took his feathered prey near the ground and feasted on it in the tree tops. This falcon is a beautiful bird whose flashes of flight reveal slate blue wings and a bright orange tail banded in black with a splash of white at the tip. The stripes over the head and cheek and down the breast mimic the bark on these white cypresses and the orange legs and feet accent the muted tones of the catkins, making him difficult to spot. Playing a game of “Where’s the Kestrel” I followed him until a female kestrel flew over head and they left together. These birds have picked a good spot. We are each one; songbird, kestrel and human, lured by the sustenance we can’t live without.
