I’m idly watching a colony of thousands of nesting kittiwakes, white gull-like birds that don’t really do it for me.

But there’s a beautiful, rustic, derelict cannery along this stunning, cliff-lined inlet, where we’ve stopped on our way back to camp from an entertaining afternoon photographing puffins, so I’m content.

A Hunter Appears

A dark silhouette shoots across the cliff face. I pull my binoculars to my eyes. It’s a peregrine falcon!  No wonder the kittiwakes all took to the water. The falcon is soaring, looking for an opportunity to hunt.  Standing in front of the pilothouse on a walk-through boat, I’m alert and ready with my camera now.

Peregrine falcons are the world’s fastest known animal, clocked at 240 mph in a dive.  This is how they hunt. They are aerial ambush predators who torpedo smaller birds out of the sky, literally knocking the life out of their victim when they strike. Their long talons are designed to grasp in flight like grappling hooks to take their prey to the ground.  As such specialized hunters, they cannot pluck a bird off the water or catch a bird who is sitting on the cliffs.

A few kittiwakes remain on their nests and in the cliffs. They are committed now. Taking to the air to join their flock below now would be a fatal mistake.

There’s not just one peregrine looking for a meal. It’s a family of four calling, coordinating, trying to goad a gull off the ledge.  The falcons are moving so fast, perfectly camouflaged against these gray-brown rocky cliffs, that its hard to keep track of them through my lens.

The Strike

Suddenly, a peregrine strikes a kittiwake in flight. 

They are entwined, spiraling toward the bay.  The peregrine has a precarious hold with just one foot and is fighting for lift while the gull struggles to break free from the talon’s grip.

Twenty feet above the water, the gull drops free and splashes into the water.

The peregrine glides upward, landing on a nearby outcrop, vocalizing what seems like an admonishment to the one that got away. 

Bobbing up and down in the gentle waves, a hiked wing on the gull in the water belies the trauma. 

It’s hard to tell if it’s a significant injury. Certainly, if the gull could fly away, he wouldn’t. Not with the falcons still above.  The peregrine cannot pull him from the waves, and the kittiwake knows it.  For the moment, he’s safe.

Other Tactics

The falcon family continues to hunt and harass in between spells of sitting, waiting, and calling.

My meal awaits me, too, so I could not stay to see if they got theirs.

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The post Hunting Peregrine Falcons appeared first on Exploring Nature by Sheila Newenham.

This is a seldom-seen hunting behavior in great blue herons and great egrets.  These feathered hunters are classified as wading birds and commonly eat fish, crabs, frogs, and insects. But here at Point Reyes National Seashore, they’ve adapted to what is most readily available: gophers. The herons slowly stalk the open fields, stopping to tilt their head one way and then another listening and waiting.  They can hear the gophers moving underground.  And the gopher can “hear” them walking, too, by the vibrations picked up by its whiskers. 

When I first saw a great blue heron standing in a field here, I didn’t know he was hunting standing quietly by a burrow hole, listening and waiting.  I would have driven right by.  Patience is rewarded here.  The heron freezes.  He tenses and slowly, smoothly and deliberately coils his head and neck backward, carefully starts to unfurl his wings and in an instant is off the ground. The full force of his body is thrown behind the piercing, razor-sharp beak aimed at a five-inch long gopher at the opening of its burrow. 

The heron’s aim for a fatal strike was off the mark and the gopher is desperately trying to free himself from this grasp. Meanwhile, the heron is trying to readjust his grip for a better hold and ease of swallowing without losing his catch. 

It’s fascinating and a little gruesome at the same time.  I feel compassion for the ill-fated, little gopher so violently torn from his home and at the same time, I know this is the web of life, necessary for all of us in one way or another.

Daniel Dietrich, of Point Reyes Wildlife Safaris, tells me that the Great Blue Herons here usually strike at a gopher every 5-10 minutes while hunting the fields.  They certainly aren’t always successful.  However, he once watched a single heron swallow five or six gophers in the span of 45minutes.  Where would this five-pound bird put that much much food??

After several tense minutes, the meal was complete and the heron hunted on.

This was amazing to see; the adaptations, techniques and skill of these birds, and even more spectacular to be able to photograph it.

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The post Hunting Herons at Point Reyes National Seashore appeared first on Exploring Nature by Sheila Newenham.