Lester Attempts to Communicate with Hawks

The juvenile hawks continue to hang out in our apartment complex, calling, and crashing through the acacia trees outside our windows. Yesterday, Mark saw two of them playing with each other on the ground. Apparently that is pretty normal behavior; siblings will stay together and with their parents for up to two months until they can hunt and fend for themselves. On the ground, they practice hunting insects and inanimate objects. Yesterday I saw one of the hawks flying with what I'm pretty sure was just a stick. It was practicing, no doubt, for an actual hunt.

There have been almost no other bird sounds around here for the past week except for hummingbirds, who seem fearless. Even the jays and crows have been quiet. Thus far, the hawks haven't bothered the nest of finches next door. However, this morning I can hear finches calling to their fledglings. Or maybe calling to encourage their young to fledge--but they're not the finches next door. The call of a male house finch is one of the most nervous-sounding bird calls I know.

Lester always enjoys the extra bird activity, and he's been trying to communicate with the hawks. He doesn't know what a hawk is, or that the hawk would enjoy eating him, but he knows that there are a lot of birds calling right outside the window. The other birds Lester has known have been friendly, for the most part--all parrots and finches of various sorts, and generally very talkative. The hawks don't respond to Lester, though, they just keep calling their calls, regardless of what sound he tries.

Like many parrots, though, Lester is a focused and determined bird. Last night he made a sound that resembled the hawk call, which means he's putting a significant amount of effort into trying to communicate with them.

It will long and perhaps monotonous.

The house finch hatchlings are getting larger and louder every hour--they're nesting in the most protected corner under the awning of our balcony. As usual, one of the chicks is more curious or courageous than the others, and s/he eyes me from the nest while I eat my breakfast or lunch (the others usually only stick their heads up when it's time to feed).

Other mysteries:

• My nails are getting long
• My left thumb-knuckle is still recovering from its sprain
• I made twice as much money in 2007 as I did in 2006.

I'm going to write a poem with DOD acronyms. It will go on longer than you want it to.

I ate an excellent reuben sandwich today at Mariah's in Carlsbad.

The baby finches will fledge any day now. The day or two leading up to the fledge always makes me a bit hyper and nervous. There is always one precocious nestling that starts trying its wings early and looking out of the nest with interest. This nest is in the eaves of our balcony roof (can a balcony roof have eaves?) just in front of and above our door. Every time we come or go we're eye to eye with the three baby finches.

Lester attacked his bucket today with particular vigor.

I went for a long walk after the reuben sandwich. The weather was terrible today, cloudy, overcast, and yet there were still a lot of people at the beach. Parts of the state beach had red flags posted, but people were going in the water anyway.

Also, Mark reported that three ravens chased a hawk out of the yard today.

I got up early because I was worried that the fledgling might still be on my bike and therefore I'd have to walk and take two buses to work instead of riding my bike. It had, in fact, slept on my bike all night. The bird watched me come out the door. When I closed the door, it ruffled it's feathers and flew alway--all the way across the yard to another building. By the time I came home, everyone had fledged.

One of the house finch chicks fledged about five minutes after I got home. S/he fluttered out of the next and landed on my bicycle rack, and has been there ever since. I didn't ride my bike to yoga because the chick was still sitting on the rack, and when I returned this evening from yoga, the chick was still there. It looks feathered, although there is a tuft of baby down on its head.