Two Birding Incidents

It’s warmer but grayer here today as a storm rolls in. The curved-billed thrasher has become a regular visitor to the suet and seed cakes. This afternoon the Gila woodpeckers were back and I was able to observe an interesting behavior.

There were four Gilas scattered about on the suet and rock wall. While one Gila fed at the suet, two crept along the wall behind. One Gila apparently didn’t want the other on his wall. He puffed himself up like a body builder inflating his muscles. His head went up, his neck puffed out along with his chest, and then he started swinging his head from side to side in a threatening manner as he advanced towards the other Gila woodpecker. When he got too close for comfort, the other Gila flew off! It was amazing behavior to observe. Meanwhile, the other two Gilas were gobbling up the suet and the seed cakes, to they made out just fine.

Then, this evening at dusk I went outside to get one of the hummingbird feeders to clean and change the nectar. As I stepped out the door in the gray light a feathered shadow flew over my head from off my rooftop. Gus and some friends had spotted an owl on the fence around the wash on Christmas Eve, so I knew it had to be the owl. I grabbed my binoculars from inside the house and walked over to the east wall to see if I could spot and identify this owl. I barely got to the wall and was starting to lift my binoculars when the owl landed right on the blocks not 3 feet from me! We both looked at each other startled, then the owl lifted up on silent wings. It hovered there a moment, then flew off to the wash on the north side of the house. I hurried over there and saw it on the ground behind a Palo Verde tree, but by the time I repositioned myself to see past the tree and lift my binoculars, it was gone, along with what was left of the light.

From the flash of a moment when I saw the bird I saw that it had long legs, a speckled coat, round head-no ear tufts, and big eyes. It was larger than a robin, more the size of a flicker but chunkier. It had a short tail. I want to see an elf owl, but this bird was just too large for that. After consulting 3 bird guides and numerous online resources I can only assume it was a burrowing owl. For size, location and habitat, my choices are really limited. I am thrilled that I have an owl living in the wash beyond my house!

Buenos Aries NWR Part One: Arivaca Cienega

One of the last things we did last year was visit the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge. We waited until we were sure Gus’ new SLR digital camera he ordered for Christmas wasn’t coming. We had hoped it would be here so he could take pictures and I could watch birds, but alas, it didn’t arrive in time, and we went anyways. My little Nikon Coolpix7600 would just have to do. All the photos seen in this Blog so far have been taken with it. I like to take it birding because it fits neatly in my pants pocket, though I hate the delay when taking pictures and it really isn’t powerful enough to zoom in on distant birds.

However, I did have my new Vortex 8x42 Diamondback Binoculars to try out. We bought these on Friday from the Tucson Audubon. I had brought Gus there to see some Leupold’s compact binoculars I have my eyes on, but at half the price and nearly as good optics, I chose these for now. Perhaps later I will but the Leupold’s. I am gradually working my way up in quality of binoculars. Until now I have had 2 pairs of Bushnell binoculars, my most recent being 8x40, but with a focal length of only 15 ft I couldn’t watch birds that were closer than that, and frequently they are! My new Diamondbacks focus at only 4.5 feet!

On Sunday, December 30, 2007 we loaded up the car with food, water and clothing. Gus filled the gas tank the day before. While we had never been to the wildlife refuge before, I read enough about it on the internet to know I needed to be prepared for everything. This is a remote area of the country and the chances of finding food or fuel were even more remote!

After days of what for Tucson was cold, this day was not only sunny, but warm. Gus wore shorts and a t-shirt while I opted for layers with light-weight pants, a t-shirt, and a long-sleeved thermal over that. As the day wore on it proved to be a good choice.

We drove south on I-19 through Green Valley and exited at the Arivaca and Amado exit. A right turn off the exit and a right at the T brought us between the Longhorn Grille and the Cow Palace. We’ve eaten at the Cow Palace before where many famous people are suppose to have eaten, including that most famous cowboy, John Wayne. A left turn here gets you onto Arivaca road and on your way to the refuge.

Arivaca road is a winding two-lane road through desert scrub and mesquite bosque. Old ranches hide in the scrub lands. Sometimes we see horses and cattle, sometimes nothing more than scrub and birds. One of the first birds we see is a roadrunner as it scurries across the road. On numerous phone poles throughout the day we see red-tailed hawks. As the road winds along the contours of the land change. Suddenly over the hill a great peak like some chiseled stone monument appears over the rolling slopes of a grassy hill. It spikes into the blue vault above, then disappears as we descend into another dip in the road. Eventually it appears for good towering over what we soon learn is the Alter Valley. The peak is called Baboquivari Peak and is sacred to the Tohono O’odom people.

We finally round a corner at the edge of Arivaca and see the first sign of the Buenos Aries National Wildlife Refuge. We decide to pull into the parking lot of a place known as the Arivaca Cienega. It’s only later that we discover this is a good choice. Though only a small part of the refuge, it is one of the best places to go birding since it has grasslands, mesquite bosque, Arivaca creek, which actually has water in it, and a marshland, complete with cattails and rushes! A few tall cottonwoods tower over the grasslands, but the first bird we see is a ladder-back woodpecker pounding away at a mesquite tree right near the parking lot. I pull my little camera out to take a picture, but the photo doesn’t come out very well and I discard it. While we are standing there looking at the bird another person comes up with the exact camera and lens that Gus is eagerly waiting for, so he gets to see what it will look like. I think he got a good shot of the bird!

We wander down the cement sidewalk as it winds through the bosque. In the shade of the thicket a barrel cactus is growing, leaning towards the sun. In the twisted twigs of some scrub I hear a sound and focus in on a Bewick's wren! The next bird I see in the same area is a white-crowned sparrow. We are nearing the edge of the trees and the sun is beating down. I remove my thermal shirt and tie it around my waist. Overhead a red-tailed hawk circles lazily in the sky.

We continue down the path to a fork. We decide to take the right fork for we see someone looking into the crown of a towering cottonwood. From high in the tree we hear the squeaking scolding of a flicker, but which kind? The flash of red under its wings identifies it as a northern flicker. What’s it so upset about? A great-horned owl roosting on a cross branch. Gus really wishes he had his camera now!

Then we hear another raucous noise from atop the tree. To my great surprise there is a lone starling chortling away. Is he mad at the owl or the flicker, or is he just singing his joy to the world? Perhaps he is calling for his buddies, but no one is showing up. We left him squawking away and continued down the trail.

The path here crosses a marshy meadow. A boardwalk has been built across it to prevent damage to habitat as well as shoes. We stop almost immediately when we see a bird silhouetted on a weed. A quick look reveals a loggerhead shrike with his bandit-like mask watching over the field. Though he is quite near the boardwalk he doesn’t fly away as we pass silently by.

At the far side of the meadow we turn right up a small hill to an observation platform. A meadowlark flies up before us and disappears into the tall grasses over the hill. At the top of this knoll the platform looks out over the marshland. Though I don’t see any birds at first, I soon hear a coot which enables me to find it. In the brush near my feet some bird is scratching about in the debris but all I see are olive-green sides and yellow undertail coverts. I never get a glimpse of the head, but wonder if it is a common yellowthroat. As I turn to look back over the meadow I see a raptor perched on a fence post. I am hoping for a gray hawk, which would be a new life bird for me. They are suppose to be in this area, but this bird is big and brown and when it flies up I see the white rump patch of a northern harrier. We watch its beautiful flight over the meadow where it disappears beyond the treeline.

Glancing back over the meadow I see another hawk perched at the very top of the tall cotton wood tree where the owl roosts. This hawk is different than any I’ve seen before, yet it’s not gray. It’s brown with a patterned face, streaky breast and white at the base of its tail. It appears to be smaller than a red-tail or a harrier. I don’t have my bird guide with me, but I write down notes in my note book and take a mental picture.

We head back down the path to continue around the loop trail. Now the path enters a shady forested area with a marshy area to the left and a wooded and brushy hillside to the right. This spot is bursting with birdlife. I can barely count fast enough as a red-winged blackbird, white-crowned sparrows, green-tailed towhees, and cardinals appear. A Pyrrhuloxia flies across the path. Then, a covey of Gambel’s quail startle up before us. In the leaves on the hillside I hear a sound and watch as twigs and weeds move. I focus in and laugh when some rodent’s head pokes out a burrow. It has the end of a dried weedstalk in its mouth and it is trying desperately to pull the thing into its hole, but the weed is still firmly rooted to the ground, and for the moment the plant is winning over the animal! I have no idea what creature I am seeing. If I was in New England I would guess at a small woodchuck, but this is the desert southwest and it must be something else: a ground squirrel perhaps? Or maybe a muskrat. We are still close to the water, but most muskrats I know build lodges like beaver. I realize I still have so much to learn.

As we continue down around the loop Gus comments on how quiet and peaceful it is here. The path wanders in and out of the trees and alongside the creek. Eventually I do see what looks like a beaver lodge, only smaller. There is no dam and no ponding, so it must be something else that built the lodge. Farther around the bend we cross a couple of wooden bridges where song sparrows pick along the muddy creek bank. We stop just as we are about to emerge from the trees for there before us stand six mule deer. There appears to be two does with four fawns. They watch us casually, then three cross the boardwalk and pass into the meadow we just looped around and three head off in the other direction. Who can explain the thinking of a deer? We are just pleased to see them on this sunny day in late December.

I am keeping a lookout for a green kingfisher, which I have been told has been seen in this area, but all I see is a kestrel in another tall cottonwood tree. This tree stands near the creek where the water has collected in a deep pool. Other trees surround this spot and all have dropped their leaves on the banks and in the water. The damp smell of moist earth and rotting plant life drifts up and scents the air. It is a pleasant, familiar scent, reminding me of New England and streams in the forest there. A rustle in the nearby grasses causes me to turn. Here we see canyon towhees flitting in and out of the brush. More white-crowned sparrows fly up and back into cover again.

As we round another corner we walk into sunlight once again. He we meet a couple who warn us of a rattlesnake ahead on the trail. We walk cautiously forward and sure enough, a menacing rattle is heard. We pause and watch as the snake slithers out onto he warm cement sidewalk which starts up again at this very point. The snake is brown and tan and about 3 to 4 feet long. Its tail kinks upwards into bands of black and gray rattles, which the animal is vigorously shaking to warn us to keep our distance. We stay at least 15 feet away as it slithers across the path, but when I move to get a better angle for a photograph it stops and coils up as if to strike. Though I am quite far away, I pause until the snake no longer feels threatened. Gus and I watch as it finally slithers off into the grass and brush beside the path. We hurry by with pounding hearts back to the parking lot. It has been a thrilling day so far and we have yet to drive through Arivaca to the main part of the refuge.

When we return to our vehicle, I consult my bird guides—Sibley’s and Kaufman and find that the hawk I saw atop the tall cottonwood may have been a juvenile Gray Hawk. The color, location, habitat and behavior all fit. I’m fairly sure I have a new life bird. As we leave the parking lot and head west I see another hawk perched atop another tree. I make Gus pullover so I can identify it, but once the car stops it flies off before I can be sure of what I’m looking at. Time to get back on the road again.

In all I recorded 26 species at this segment of the refuge, though I know there were many more birds that I could not identify. These are the ones I am sure of with 2 questionable:

1. American Kestrel
2. Bewick’s wren
3. Black Phoebe
4. Canyon towhee
5. Cardinal
6.Common yellowthroat(?)
7. Coot
8. European Starling
9. Gambel’s quail
10. Gray hawk (?)
11. Gila Woodpecker
12. Great-horned owl
13. Green-tailed towhee
14.Ladder-backed woodpecker
15. Loggerhead shrike
16. Mourning dove
17. Northern flicker
18. Northern harrier
19. Pyrrhuloxia
20. Red-tailed hawk
21. Red-winged blackbird
22. Ruby-crowned kinglet
23. Says’ Phoebe
24. Song sparrow
25. Western meadowlark
26.White-crowned sparrow

First Bird

In reading other Birding Blogs today I came to realize that I sorely neglected to note my first bird of 2008! At first I thought it might be a house finch, as that bird is most common around my yard, but under further consideration I think it may have been a Costa’s hummingbird. I base this on the fact that the first thing I do in the morning is open my kitchen shades and the first one I open is over the kitchen sink, which is nearest my teapot. On this window hangs my nectar feeder and almost every morning when I open the shade there is a hummingbird drinking its morning nectar. So, to all you other birders out there, I am claiming a Costa’s hummingbird as my first bird of 2008. However, as soon as I opened the patio curtain I saw house finches, lesser goldfinches, mourning doves and house sparrows. Throughout the rest of the day we were visited by Stumpy, the cactus wren, rock wrens, Curved-billed thrashers (which ate from the suet even though Gus was out there grilling hotdogs), Gila woodpeckers, and the ever amusing and amazing roadrunner. It should be a fine year for birding in 2008!

A New Year in the Old West

It’s a new year in the old west but apparently the old ways have not changed completely. I almost laughed when I heard a news report on New Year’s Eve reminding people that they could no longer go outside at midnight and shoot their guns into the air in celebration of the New Year. Apparently this ban just went into affect 7 years ago after a young girl was hit in the head by a bullet fired from 3 miles away! In spite of the warning and the law, two other houses had stray bullets come through the roof this New Year’s day. One bullet grazed the cheek of a small boy as he slept in his bed! I'm not laughing now. This is one old way that needs to fall by the wayside!

The New Year has come in with a roar of rushing wind. It struck about 5 a.m. on New Year’s Day and has been blowing steadily since. Yesterday morning I awoke to Christmas wrapping paper blowing about in my yard and in the wash next to the house. While today would be our normal trash day, it won’t be picked up until tomorrow due to the holiday. Still, people have put their barrels out and garbage is being blown all over the neighborhood and the desert. It’s not a pretty sight!

Fewer and fewer crickets are coming into my house, but they are still here. I thought they would disappear with the cold, but no. Last night I found one in the kitchen sink. I have also found them in the washing machine and the bath tub. I should let the birds into my house! They are doing a good job outside. Yesterday I saw Stumpy, the stub-tailed cactus wren, hunting down insects near my front door as well as in the back yard. The roadrunner was back also, running along the top of the block wall in the back yard. His sharp eyes were constantly on the lookout. He must have seen something tasty in the neighbor's yard for he hopped over the wall and was lost to my sight. Today I have seen the rock wrens numerous times as they search for insects. They bob and hop about the yard, around the gas grill and on the patio searching for dinner. Sometimes they serenade me from the wall or the rooftop with their shrill whistle and musical trill. I have quite a troop of birds here working to keep my yard insect free.

I live on the lands of the old west where cowboys and Indians once roamed. The Native Americans are still here with their reservations and their casinos. In the stores and restaurants you are quite likely to see genuine cowboys in full cowboy get-up, minus the six-shooter of course. We even have people ride through the neighborhood on horseback, and to drive into town we drive through open range with Texas longhorns crossing the street sometimes. I haven’t even bothered to count the number of cattle guards I have to cross to get to and from home. I remember being so impressed by seeing a real cattle guard for the first time when we moved to Idaho 20 years ago. Now I just take them for granted. It’s not something you would see in New England, however. They are just further evidence of the remnants of the Old West.

New Year's Eve

It’s 9 a.m. here in Sycamore Canyon. The sun is shining brightly and a thrasher just ran by. The goldfinches are feeding, the hummingbirds are fighting, and the rock wrens are bobbing along the block wall. It’s 60 degrees outside with a cloudless sky. So far I haven’t seen those dreaded street pigeons again.

We’ve lived here for 8 month now. We’re still trying to decide if this is home. We both love the weather here, especially now that we are watching the rest of the country get dumped on with snow. It’s a hard mentality to get out of, this hunkering down for winter thing. I think we will have to learn to hunker down for Monsoon instead.

Though these winter days are shorter in terms of daylight, it is still the best time of year to be outside. We took a drive yesterday to Buenos Aries National Wildlife Refuge (posting soon to follow) and spent the whole day removed from civilization in fresh air and sunshine. There are so many natural areas so close to Tucson, all within driving distance. It is one of my favorite things about living here. We have been to many places so far but still have more to get to.

Here in the canyon construction has slowed along with home sales. It is the condition of the whole country right now. Tucson was caught up in a huge housing boom. We moved here after the beginning of the slow down but not before it hit rock bottom. I’m still not sure it has hit rock bottom. I just know I’m not losing pieces of sky to rooftops as quickly as I was before.

So, what do I like about Tucson?

The weather, sunsets, the mountains, the wildlife, the birds, the biodiveristy, the proximity to natural areas yet still easy access to all things urban. I can go to a play, an art gallery, a movie, and just about any type of restaurant I want to. I can shop at 3 or 4 malls (I think, I’m not a big shopper). And if I want to go back to college we have the University of Arizona along with others right here in town. I love the light restrictions so that we have beautifully dark night skies. I love seeing all the stars again, and we have yet to take advantage of all the Observatories in the area. There are quite a few from what I understand. I like it that I can go from desert floor to mountain peak all within an hour’s drive. I can be in the Sonoran desert surrounded by saguaros yet drive up the Catalina Highway to Mt. Lemmon in December if I want to see snow.

What do I dislike about Tucson?

Summer humidity, scorpions, brown crickets, high crime rate, illegal aliens, and drug runners.

And what do I miss?

Walking barefoot in the grass, maple trees in autumn, a pine forest in summer; swimming in a river, pond, lake or the ocean. Basically, I miss water and the sound of it, whether it is the trickle of a brook, the bubbling of a stream, the gentle lap of water against the edge of a lake or the pounding of waves at the ocean. I think that is why so many people in the area put in swimming pools or fountains. As for rain, we get our share of it here, enough to enjoy a rainy day without having to endure endless days of gray and steady downpours like New England. I don’t miss those month long rainstorms at all.

Well, whoever you are and wherever you are, I wish you a peaceful and blessed New Year filled with joy, the beauty of nature and the wonder of life.

Winter Visitors and the Dreaded Bird

With cold days and even colder nights the birds are flocking to the feeders. Suet, seed and nectar are constantly replenished. Costa’s hummingbirds are the most frequent nectar feeders, though sometimes I see an Anna’s and I wonder if I am seeing a female of a different species. Since most of the females look the same it can be hard to tell, but I notice the difference in size and the length and curvature of the beaks. One species has a short and straight bill, the other a longer and more curved bill.

This morning the yard was full of the usual suspects, but then a new bird landed in the back yard and my heart filled with dread. I thought I had seen one of these fly overhead a couple of nights ago, but hoped I was wrong, but I wasn’t. There standing in my back yard was a street pigeon! A big black thing, it flew up to the roof of the house, then I spotted it at the feeder on the north side of the house and another pigeon was with it! If these birds decide to hang around my house, I will have to take my feeders down, for they will make a huge mess of everything with their droppings. They will take over the feeders and soon all their relatives will join them. However, they didn’t hang around for long and I am hoping the reason was they didn’t find any food that appealed to them. Since I feed mostly thistle seed, suet, and peanuts in feeders that are not accessible to them I hope they were disappointed and won’t come back. What I can’t understand is how they found my house out here in the desert so far from town. It doesn’t seem there is anything to attract them to this area. I couldn’t help thinking, where is that Cooper’s hawk when you need him!

Shortly after the pigeon left I spotted a lesser goldfinch sitting on the floor of my patio in a daze. I had not heard it strike the window and I didn’t see any marks on the glass, but it certainly behaved as if it had struck somewhere. Though it is warmer today than the past 4 days have been it is still cool in the shade and on the cement, so once again I went outside to rescue a bird.

Its feet were curled beneath it, and while its breathing was rapid, its eyes were closed.

I gently scooped the tiny bird up. This is the first time I have ever held a lesser goldfinch.

I brought the bird out to the sunshine and set it in a corner under the mesquite tree.

Then I stepped back to watch from a distance. While I was standing there some other goldfinches flew in and landed in the mesquite tree no more than 3 to 4 feet from me. Then a male Costa’s landed about 3 feet from my face! I only have a small digital camera but I was able to snap some remarkable pictures because I was so close to them.

As for the little goldfinch? Gus and I went into town for errands. When we returned five hours later it was gone. I can only assume it eventually came to its senses and flew off with the rest of the flock.

Feeder Wars

With all the feeders around here there is naturally a certain amount of bickering among the birds over the best spots. Still, the woodpeckers mostly eat suet and peanuts, the finches eat thistle seed and sunflower seed and the hummingbirds sip nectar. Yesterday that all changed when I observed a Gila woodpecker dangling from the hummingbird feeder on the patio! Twice within the last 2 weeks I have had to pick the nectar feeder up from off the patio floor. I didn’t know how this had happened, but the sugary nectar created a sticky mess all over the cement. Now the mystery was solved. I watched as the Gila woodpecker grasped the thin perch that encircled the feeder from beneath. His posture reminded me of a bat clinging to a cave wall. Then, he curled his body up over the edge, cocked his head just so, extended his neck in an arc and with his bill barely reaching the plastic flower, he proceeded to sip nectar from one of the ports.

Quietly I called to Gus to come and see. He was able to watch from the picture window in the great room. We watched dumbfounded as the woodpecker stuck his tongue in and out of the tiny port drinking nectar. I could actually see the nectar level falling the longer he clung there and drank. A Costa’s hummingbird flew down and scolded him, but still he clung and drank. Then another Gila woodpecker flew over and chased the first one away and quickly took over the feeder for himself! I would have loved to get a picture, but I knew if I moved the birds would fly off and I wouldn’t be able to witness this moment.

This morning dawned cold and clear. The forecast was for a low of 29 degrees but at 8 a.m. the thermometer under the patio read 32 degrees. I replenished all my feeders yesterday but I noticed the birds flying in to the birdbath for a drink seemed unable to get one. I knew I had just filled the bird bath yesterday, so I wondered why there was no water. A look through my binoculars revealed why. The water was frozen! Poor birds! It was just after sunrise so I quickly dressed and went out to thaw the birdbath. It wasn’t easy. I set it on its end in the sunshine and poured two gallons of warm water over the ice before it melted. Then, I positioned it back on its pedestal and refilled it with warm water. I was barely back in the door before the birds were landing on the brim and drinking once again. Later this morning when Gus was out doing errands he called me from his cell phone to tell me he had just heard the following statement on a local radio station: You know your kids were born in Tucson when they get excited about seeing the birdbath frozen in the morning! Well, I’m not a kid and I wasn’t born in Tucson, but it did add a bit of drama to the day!

In the backyard the finches and house sparrows fight for position at the feeders. When the Gila woodpeckers fly in everyone gets out of their way. They swoop onto the suet, or land on the block wall and jerk their heads from side to side in an inverse arc as if daring anyone to mess with them. The only bird that seems to be able to muscle its way past Gila woodpeckers is the Gilded flicker. It’s larger than the Gila and seems to be able to take over whenever it appears, which isn’t very often.

The morning doves stay mostly on the ground searching for seeds that have fallen. But sometime hunger drives them to try the feeders. I mostly have feeders that prohibit their larger bodies from landing on them, but they are quite inventive and will also twist and torque their bodies to get at seed. This morning they shared the ground outside the den with a covey of Gambel's quail. The quail always make me smile as they scratch so busily in the dirt. They peck and shift positions, each bird believing the others have the better spot. It is a frantic feeding, unlike the more sedate mourning doves that peck a little here, and peck a little there, then take a nap.

The fiercest fighters are the hummingbirds. They guard the feeders diligently and buzz off any contenders. It matters not to them if I am outside or not. They swoop past my ears in a fury if another humming bird gets near. I’ve seen the hummingbirds position themselves as lookout on the mesquite tree or even on dry stems in my flower pots. On female Costa’s has staked out a post on the verbena near the kitchen window. She sits with her back to the glass and darts her head from side to side in a sweep of the surrounding territory. If another hummingbird appears, she flies into attack mode and they buzz off together into the wash.

There is never a dull moment here with all these birds, but it reaches high drama when the Cooper’s hawk swoops in. Then the birds scatter like in an explosion to various points in the sky. So far the Cooper’s has been unsuccessful, but odds are that one day it will catch a bird. If I am here to witness it I will certainly have something to write about that day! I did witness the event one day in Utah along the Wasatch Front.

We were living close to the Wasatch Mountains in an older neighborhood with many tall pines, large cottonwood trees, a few aspen and one towering poplar. The pines were planted in a row down the east side of the property that sloped off sharply in a long and narrow back yard. Off the dining area a slider led to a deck where I had a bird feeder positioned hanging from a hook. It was a snowy evening in early winter and the birds were in a feeding frenzy before they roosted for the night. Suddenly the hawk swooped in and struck a bird. The little finch never knew what hit it. The Sharpie carried the bird over to the nearest pine and positioned itself on a large bough, its back to the interior of the tree, its eyes facing outward. In the waning gray light I watched the hawk though my binoculars as it ripped the breast feathers out and tore open the bird’s flesh. All the while the snow fell softly forming a gauzy curtain between the hawk and I. Still, I was able to see the hawk’s head and breast slowly stain with blood. I must have watched for 15 to 20 minutes as the hawk devoured that bird. It put me in a moral dilemma of feeling sorry for the small bird but glad the Sharpie was able to eat that night. He, too, needed food for energy and warmth to get through the coming snowstorm.