Peregrine Falcon Field Notes-July 8 2007, The Raptor Center at the University of Minnesota

By Jackie Fallon

July 8, 2007

And they fell from the skies above

Most people think that doing peregrine field work is just about watching the adults return to their territory, banding the young chicks, and moving on from there. I thought those same things for many years, until I had my first peregrine “fledging” experience.

I was working as a volunteer in the clinic at The Raptor Center (TRC) in 1991, when a phone call came in about a young peregrine chick in downtown Minneapolis. Dr. Tordoff wasn’t available to go get the chick, so I was sent out to get the chick and bring it back to the center.

When I arrived in downtown Minneapolis, there were about 30 people standing in a circle on the Nicollet Mall. In the center of the circle was this very young peregrine falcon --about 38 days old and a few days shy of having the full ability of flight. (Even when the chicks have all their feathers fully grown in, their flight is not very coordinated.) The chick was very wet and looking very disheveled. It also was able to keep all those people away from it by hissing and standing very defiantly with a very serious stare with dark brown eyes.

The people in the circle were amazed that I was able to just walk up to the chick and carefully grab it around the body, just wearing a small pair of leather gloves. The chick was then placed in a cardboard box and brought to the Center’s clinic. Once at the clinic, Dr. Pat Redig did a quick exam and decided that the chick was perfectly fine. Within the hour, I was back at the building where the chick had fledged from and was returning it to the nest box. The adults screamed and flew by with great determination, but quieted down once I returned the chick and left the area. As for me, it was back to the clinic and cleaning cages.

This same ritual continues every year during late June through early July, when I or other staff from TRC spend many hours going to a building site, rescuing a recently fledged chick, and bringing it into The Raptor Center for a quick exam to make sure it is healthy and can be returned to the nest location. Most of the time, the chick is fine and is flying on its own within a week. Other times, the chick doesn’t make it all the way to the ground, but is found on a ledge below the nest box or a nearby rooftop. Most often someone notices the apparently “stranded” chick and calls the TRC or me. Many hours are spent reassuring the callers that the chick is most likely fine, but it is often impossible to gain access to the ledges and do anything to help the chick. We often have to wait and see what the chick does, but more often than not, the chick is on a different ledge or other location within a few hours of the phone call.

After their first week of flying, the chicks gain confidence and begin to really try and figure out the power and abilities of their wings. They are often seen chasing small birds, and this is where things may go wrong. Many of the urban birds have a great food base near their building or bridge, but it is often things in their home territory that cause serious injuries or even death. Someone once mentioned to me that a newly fledged peregrine was like a 16-year-old with a new driver’s license and a new Porche. The chicks have the ability for great speed, but often have no experience with handling this speed in the surroundings where they live. Although it can be a very difficult and emotional experience to retrieve a dead peregrine chick, it is the way things are in nature. There are no guarantees with young animals -- some live and some don’t, and hopefully the species will continue to survive by having more live than die.  

To date, things seem to be going well with the newly fledged chicks. We have returned over a dozen chicks to rooftops in the metro area and have had just two losses. The chicks are now fine-tuning their flight skills, catching their first meal, and making it on their own -- away from their parents. I now spend my time watching them do all of this -- trying to catch a pigeon, miss, and try again. I often sit for hours, hoping to see them make their first kill, but am just as easily fascinated when I see them take a bath, chase butterflies, or just preen those gorgeous brown, soft feathers. The future for the species lies with the survival of the young, and I eagerly wait to see which one may show up on territory in a few years from now…maybe Apollo from the Bremer Tower in St. Paul or August from Kennedy Creek on the North Shore of Lake Superior. I guess I will just have to wait and see.