Sunset Park

The female is rarely seen these days. She emerges from the cornice nest and flies up to the London Plane on 41st Street to take food bought up by her mate. Here she briefly perches on the avenue London Plane.It gets gory from here… The male with prey in the fog.An hour later, the fog…

I wrote about the local Kestrels for the Brooklyn Bird Club’s excellent Clapper Rail. Several days of hunting portrayed here. By now, I guess that there are young in the nest.

We had to be away from the #BrooklynKestrels Lookout for a week. All the trees leafed out in our absence. Except for this bare branch sticking upright across the street. Yes! The wee falcons are still going strong. Yesterday morning around 8:30 the male announced his presence with swirling call. He had prey. The female…

This male is a hell of a provider. I’ve seen three feedings per day recently, in which the male will bring prey to a perch, pluck and eat some, and then noisily give to the female. Caught a glimpse of her. She’s coming out of the nest to take food. He has popped into the…

Saturday. The female had some prey, a small bird, probably House Sparrow. There aren’t many other options around here, yet. She flew down to the roof with her prey, then soon after flew up to another pipe without it. Too soon to have plucked, eaten the prey. Did she cache it?Wednesday.Walking up the hill after…

A favored perch. For a few days. We thought it was too crowded up there for sex, but it wasn’t.When you see a bird doing a series of wide-open yawn-like movements, they’re probably yawping up a pellet of undigested remains of yesterday’s meal. Two of these pellets are visible on this platform, there’s another behind…

Check. Check. Check.All these shots are from this week. The last two were on Thursday afternoon. I saw the female feed on small birds, presumably House Sparrows, twice within an hour. She’s packing in the food for egg-laying: remember, an American Kestrel egg represents 11% of the female’s body weight.For raptor friends, the scrape cam…

As I was preparing to head out the door last Sunday, the dawn of DST, I glanced out the window occasionally to see if the Kestrels would show up at the crack of dawn. They don’t set their clocks forward, after all. A bird whooshed into the London Plain across the street and hop-skipped-flew up…