Peregrines

Every winter for the last five or six years, a very special couple returns to the cliffs that surround the Blue Point bowl – two peregrine falcons, who have chosen Blue Point as their winter nesting ground, where they settle down after a half year of traveling together across the state. They were late returning this year, and I worried something might have happened to one of them, but in late January I was hiking above the escarpments when I heard their familiar, clear, almost haunting cry, and saw them circling together, tracing graceful arabesques in the air above the pond. It was good to see them back – I’ve grown close to these birds, over the years, and I think we have a lot in common. They love this valley as much as I do, with its cliffs which glow so brilliantly in the afternoon sun that I imagine these sharp-eyed birds can see their way home from far across the central valley. And they mate for life, as I believe I have as well.

Peregrines, like so many birds, came close to extinction due to exposure to DDT, which made their eggs too fragile to hatch. Thanks to an extensive campaign of breeding and re-introduction, they’ve made quite a resurgence, and though still rare are no longer on the endangered species list. I’m told that these falcons are the only nesting pair known in Yuba, Butte or Nevada Counties, and that few peregrines raised in captivity, as these likely were, manage to grow to maturity outside of urban areas without falling prey to their natural enemy the owl, against which captive-raised peregrines are unable to develop defenses.

Last spring, when the female was on the nest, I watched the male sitting patiently in a large Ponderosa Pine at the top of the cliff, ignoring the persistent cries of his mate until, at last, he leisurely launched himself into the air, which was teeming with cliff swallows. He took a few quick wing strokes, dipped sharply to one side, and a moment later the female came streaking out from the nest and turned upside down to grab the unfortunate swallow he was so thoughtfully holding out for her. Within seconds she was back in the nest and he was back on his perch in the pine tree, enjoying a few minutes of peace and quiet before she started hollering at him again.

It is magnificent the utter command they have of this valley. They are intensely territorial and though small (particularly the males) there is no bird on the planet that is their equal in the air. Pity the unfortunate owl or even the gold eagle who blunders into their airspace – the sharp-eyed peregrine will doubtless see them first and will hurtle down and blast through a wing of the unsuspecting predator at incredible speeds. They never know what hit them.

The peregrine isn’t just fast – it’s actually the fastest animal on the planet, clocked at speeds approaching 250 miles per hour. Until recently the "experts" claimed that peregrines couldn’t possibly be that fast, that no bird could withstand speeds above 150 miles per hour without being injured by the pressure of the rushing air. But a skydiving falconer put his peregrine to the test, jumping out of the plane with the bird and a videographer. On the first jump it looked like the naysayers were right, the peregrine appeared to be having a hard time keeping up with the skydiver at 130 miles per hour. But when they played back the footage in slow motion, they could see that the falcon was going through a well-choreographed series of motions to slow himself down – rather than having trouble keeping up, he was actually braking to stay with his falconer! On the next jump the skydiver went first and they tossed the bird out fifteen seconds later. Sure enough, the bird plummeted at over two hundred miles per hour until he caught up, then he put back on the brakes to enjoy the rest of the dive with his buddy.

They say that peregrines live for fifteen or sixteen years, which means this pair could easily be with us for another decade of winters and springs. It’s an honor to share this beautiful valley with them.