We had just had lunch on the patio at
Dong Phuong in New Orleans East and were walking out to the parking lot when I noticed a swallow-tailed kite soaring over the woods to the west. We all stood transfixed watching the bird's mastery of the air, until it drifted off to the northeast. Of course the camera was safely locked in the car.
Immediately after the kite's departure, a red-shouldered hawk came gliding in to perch, briefly, on a snag overlooking the parking lot before again taking flight and disappearing into the woods. Camera still locked in the car.
Happily, Jessa and I found another redshoulder on the trip back. We were perched on the observation deck overlooking
Mammoth Spring in Arkansas when we both noticed a raptorial shadow gliding along the opposite bank; the bird itself we only spotted as she took her own perch in a small tree next to the spring. This time Jessa was ready, camera already in hand.
After making one hunting flight into the shallows—unsuccessful, so far as I could tell—the hawk flew almost directly toward us and perched in a larger tree to our right.
She made another hunting flight, taking a shot at something—a frog, perhaps?—on a mat of algae and duckweed directly below us...
...and then flew to another tree, even closer, on our left.
Here she scanned her surroundings actively, head on a swivel, and made a couple more prospective hunting flights, but returning each time.
She hunted in our company—fully aware of our presence—for a good twenty minutes or so. Never once did she seem nervous, just alert to potential prey—but then we are falconers, and know a thing or two about being polite to hawks. She was as comfortable in our presence as Stekoa would have been, and gave Jessa some wonderful photographic opportunities.
Finally she departed back across the spring and began to soar over the eponymous town of Mammoth Spring. We took our leave as well; time to get back on the road.
