Last year I watched 2 hawk chicks being raised outside my kitchen window. Not directly outside, but up a pine tree. I participated in their life to the extent that I named them and I believe that to some degree they recognized me. They certainly looked in my windows and sat on my deck and chimney.
I got so I would whistle to them. I mimicked their call. The call of the young hawk. It got so I could whistle to them and sometimes they would fly over. I haven't really seen those two chicks since November. But, Ruby their mama, had a new clutch of chicks somewhere nearby this year, but not in my pine. The chicks have been flying over.
Yesterday, I whistled to one. He swooped around to take another look. I saw his/her gangly appearance and I am sure he/she is not Iggy or Fran from last year. This is a new hawk. But he/she still had to take a look and this strange earthborn hawk whistling in his/her language. It is nice to know that I still have the touch. I can whistle to hawks.
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