Friday, September 10th, 2010 | Posted by Longboat Key News
The osprey is one of the largest birds of prey in North America and eats fish almost exclusively. It is one of the most widespread birds in the world, found on all continents except Antarctica
Peregrine falcons are the fastest flying birds in the worldâthey are able to dive at 200 miles per hour.
One morning on Beer Can Island I mistook a peregrine falcon, which is rare there, for an osprey, which is common on Longboat Key. Confusion turned to good fortune some minutes later when I was afforded a welcome side-by-side comparison of both raptors, showing both birdsâ outstanding characteristics.
Mistaken identity
High in a tree was what I believed to be Beer Canâs resident immature osprey that I called âBobby McGeeâ after the old Janis Joplin song. This was where the osprey hung out or ate a fish it had just caught. As I looked at this bird of prey, there were indications that it wasnât an osprey.
Despite the cautionary lights going on in my head I made excuses. Maybe the ruffled breast speckled with dark lines was a sign of the bird maturing. After all Iâd not seen it for nearly a week. Were the yellow feet with the tiny black toes that of an osprey? The beak seemed a little small and blue/gray. That wasnât osprey-like. The wings and sides seemed unfamiliarly dark. Maybe it was the effects of shadowed light? How did I make the mistake? I was looking at what I knew to be there and not seeing what was there.
My wife and I walked several feet to a nearby lagoon to watch a hunting great blue heron, a yellow-crowned night heron beneath some mangroves and a feeding roseate spoonbill. When the spoonbill flew, something still nagged at me about the âosprey.â My wife and I both turned to watch it. Then it dawned on me. We were looking at a peregrine falcon! Peregrines are rare here. In the two previous winters here Iâd not seen one on Beer Can. Iâd seen numbers of peregrines in flight where shape, silhouette and flying style are what is visible. But Iâd never seen one posing.
Grim business
Right in front of me, in a dramatic setting, the bird once used by knights and ladies for hawking during the era of chivalry was now posing. The peregrine falcon can plunge dive at 200 mph, taking prey in mid air. It has a specially notched beak to break the necks of prey birds. This bird is avian royalty. The realization that I was looking at my first perching peregrine left me flush with excitement.
The peregrine looked more gray than brown; it appeared sleek with its pointed wings flat on its sides. The body was almost gray, and an eye was large and black. It took me a while to recognize that the falconâs facial âmustacheâ was vertical. The ospreyâs is horizontal. Those large black eyes seemed hidden by the peregrines dark colored head and facial âmustache.â
The picture that peregrine presented spelled grim business. I tried to imagine how an unfortunate bird would see the peregrine suddenly racing toward it in the morning sky. By the time this aerial assassin was seen, it might be too late. Chilling. Indeed a life history of the peregrine has a 1930 account by an observer who was watching a flock of pectoral sandpipers in a marsh when a peregrine flew into them continuing on. The peregrine had apparently killed one, but it happened so quickly that the observer, about 30 yards away, hadnât realized what happened until the raptor returned for its victim.
Warm chocolate
Just then another raptor flew in from across the lagoon. A brown and white form came above me, turned making a curve and landed high in an Australian pine tree on the side of the lagoon, bending the branch on which it landed. It was âBobby McGee,â a real osprey. White head, chocolate brown body, larger and bulkier than the peregrine, with a cruelly hooked bill and the horizontal âmustache.â Somehow the ospreyâs chocolate color exuded warmth and was reassuring in comparison with the grim gray of the fearfully fast peregrine.
The osprey, known as the fish hawk, plunges into water feet first to take a fish. If the osprey is successful, the fish will be carried off headfirst. Bobby however was âempty-talonedâ and just resting. Peregrine and osprey were 65 yards apart not looking at each other. They were however affording me a live lesson in comparative raptor identification. The only thing I couldnât see was the color of the ospreyâs feet, which were obscured by a branch.
Soon the peregrine was rested, its neck was stretched out and its eyes were interested in something toward the Longboat Pass Bridge. It stayed that way for a while then leaped slightly downward, its curved wings flapping hard, and flew like a tapered bullet toward the bridge and out of sight. What luck! A rare bird here had given me a long, long look. The bird for which Iâd mistaken it had come and although far apart, both put on a side-by-side comparison of field marks.
A year later while walking over the Longboat Pass Bridge, I saw a raptor flying off Beer Can Island. My first thought was that it was an osprey. Then I noted the pointed wings, grayish hue and wondered if I wasnât a peregrine. I couldnât get binoculars on the bird, as it quickly disappeared and perhaps avoided making the same mistake twice.
