The Falcon and the Show, Man

A gallery of photos of The Lady of the Cliffs, plus apt music from The Byrds and The Hawks (with Bob Dylan).

Oct 07, 2021

Every couple of months I devote on installment of this newsletter to some sort of gallery of my photographs on various angles or settings. Today, my new obsession: A beautiful girl with incredible gifts who is no threat to my marriage because she is already taken. Also, she is a Peregrine Falcon (see below). Meanwhile, my award-winning film, which you’ve heard about, started streaming last night for a few days from the ninth festival that has featured it in recent months. You can find the link to it at the Portland Film Festival here. Music below from, of course, The Byrds and The Hawks (with Bob Dylan), but sorry, not the Eagles, nor the Orioles or Mighty Sparrow. As always, subscribe to this newsletter, it’s still free!

The Bird is the Word

We had visited the nearby State Line Lookout (over the Hudson where NY and NJ meet)) several times for hiking and always marveled at the raptors who would occasionally provide fly-bys. I never went there to engage with them (as if that is even possible) until I got my nifty ultra-zoom lens this past July. Of course, it is not easy capturing them as they soar high in the sky or flash past at eye level over the river or along the famous rocky palisades that line the Hudson. One can try, and photographers more skilled or more experienced than I (or with fancier equipment) often freeze frame sensational shots.

Soon I became aware that the real star of the show there was not one of the shutterbugs nor a local naturalist but one particular raptor, a fairly young (maybe five years old?) female Peregrine Falcon some call The Lady of the Cliffs. I knew a little about peregrines—my wife and I had been raptor fans for a couple of years and attended a few shows with captive stars. But this was falcons-in-the-wild. When I thought I first spotted The Lady on a perch along the cliffs it turned out it was one of her fledglings. I had a lot to learn.

Peregrines of any sort are, to coin a word, awesome. When they dive for food (usually after a smaller bird), they are the fastest creatures on earth, at over 200 mph. This not only helps them stay well-fed but can terrify other raptors often twice their size (that is, most hawks and eagles and osprey). They mate for life. The females lay eggs around February, raise their kids with the fathers, show them how to fly and hunt, and then pretty much kick them off the couch a few months later.

One such couple has occupied this lengthy stretch above the river: Our Lady and her somewhat older and smaller (and less aggressive) mate. So why did this one gal develop a cult following along the cliffs among photogs and bird-watchers alike? She was, one might say, particularly beautiful (in a fierce way) and photogenic. That was obvious, but the real claim to affection was her behavior and prowess, which I had not yet witnessed but others attested to, and earned her the affectionate nickname “The Beast.” Far more than her hubby, she was the necessarily heartless hunter; was known to fight off anything that threatened her eggs or young’uns (even eagles); roamed the cliffs attacking fellow falcons or bulkier birds who had any thought of maybe invading her territory. She took no mess, and no prisoners.

Wonder Woman.

So here is a gallery of some of my images of her, most captured just this week, plus a few shots of her mate and one of her (now-departed) 2021 brood of two.

Falcon Crest

Here’s our girl yesterday morning. “Look over your shoulder / I’ll be there.”

The general scene at the Lookout yesterday on a cloudy day, a shot of the falcon couple on the same tree.

Pin-up shot of our girl, looking not at all Beastly.

On a favorite perch looking for a meal or gazing, in envy or sympathy, at the many birds passing by who have to fly south for the winter while she stays put (in the cold).

Here she is about to spring into flight. Note the band on her right leg, placed there some time ago for tracking.

And away she goes…

And returning to a perch.

Here is one of her fledglings a few months back, still struggling to fly coherently, and before the yellow and brown started to turn white.

Her (smaller) mate yesterday, as part of nature’s sculpture.

Same distant tree last week in an unusual moment, hanging out with a Black Vulture. They don’t usually get along, but are not competitors in that the vulture feeds off carcasses in the woods while she hunts live birds and other prey.