I Thought I Saw …

People around Cleveland either love winter or hate it. There seems to be no middle ground. I enjoy the snow and constantly changing views during a snow storm, so I set the laptop on the table overlooking our bird feeder array in hopes of getting some necessary work done—along with some quality time watching the birds come and go. I was about half successful.
Late this afternoon things were as busy as the Starbucks down the street, only my customers were all the fur and feathered types. No fewer than 20 Pine Siskins were on the feeders, along with some of the brightest-colored juncos I’ve seen this season. Black-capped Chickadees, titmice and no fewer than four species of woodpeckers added the occasional spot of red to the black-and-white winter tableau.
I glanced down at the screen to see if I had written anything and in a flash, all the birds disappeared. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of the resident Cooper’s Hawk flashing overhead.
After a quiet period of a couple minutes the birds trickled back by ones and twos. Chickadees first, followed by House Finches, a single White-throated Sparrow and even some American Robins came to feed on the fruits of the Bradford Pear tree.
About the time the number of birds was back up to where it had been, the hawk flashed though again. This time it was so low to ground I could not believe it’s wings were not hitting the snow. Equally as fast the birds all disappeared, except for a Downy Woodpecker that was hanging to the block of suet. He probably thought he was out of the hawk’s line of vision. He glanced around the suet to be sure the hawk was gone.
This scene repeated itself two more times. The hawk made no attempt to strafe the feeder as I’ve seen it do in the past. So I’m left to try to figure out its strategy. It might have been demonstrating its ability to fly incredibly fast and low; work off some extra ounces gained over the holidays; or show all the other birds it’s really a good guy—in spite of what they might have heard about hawks dining on small birds.
I’m sure one of my naturalist friends has an explanation for this behavior, but why let the facts get in the way of a good story?