I occasionally like to think about how great it would be if I could just write for a living. Given that it has been about three months since the last time I wrote, it is good that I have teaching and a consistent paycheck going for me. It has been busy here since school started and I am just now getting a chance to write. Well, that and I had a falcon land on my arm.
Early this summer, I came to the realization that I was noticing and appreciating and wondering about birds. I downloaded the Merlin app so that I can be obnoxious on a hike; it enables me stop on a trail, tell people to shush, and try to record which bird in singing. Maybe it was the new terrain and different birds that live here, but I was pretty captivated by them and even told my person that I am "in my bird era." According to social media, as a middle-aged person, I am subject to fall for birds, plants, or counting grams of protein. I have done the protein thing before and the squirrels ate all my plants, so birds it is!
My person, being the avid listener and companion that he is, made note of my interest in birds and when a random falcon flying event crossed his Facebook feed, he knew I needed to fly a falcon. I had never thought of letting a large bird of prey land on my arm, but once he brought it up, I was sure I needed it. I did absolutely no research into it and had the idea of half petting zoo, half me training a falcon to fly. It was absolutely neither of those things.
Picture if you will, 30-40 people shivering under a pavilion on an early November morning for the sole purpose of flying a falcon. Picture also, a very captive audience and a very learned falconeer who used this time to practice all of his jokes. He told bad Irish-Catholic jokes, he told bad bird jokes, he told bad dating jokes; he told bad jokes. And we shivered and smiled and waited to get our hands on birds. But first, he had us go around the group and introduce ourselves. Again, 30-40 people there. It took exactly 32 minutes to do this. I know because my person timed it and told me the minute we left.
I will say that as we went around the group and I listened to people say who they were, where they were from, and why they were there, I knew without a doubt, I was not really in my bird era at all. Not like this. Not like the guy with the wildlife camera like he was going out on Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom to film. Not like the one teen there who could name all raptors by age three. And definitely, definitely not like the woman who shrieked and almost wept anytime anyone said the word "owl". She was having some very strong reactions to anything owl that seemed pretty indecent for such a large group setting, if you ask me.
I will say that we did learn a lot about birds of prey while we were there. Once he started bringing birds out for us to look at (not pet), facts were flowing. Did you know that chickens eat mice? I know this because half the people there keep chickens and told us. Did you know that the Peregrine Falcon is the fastest animal on earth and not the cheetah? Over 220 mph that one. It also likes to punch its prey which cracks me up every time I think of it. All those talons and beak, and its winding up for a throat punch. Once bird show and tell was over, we moved, stiffly, from under the pavilion to get sized for bird-landing gloves. He did this by having each person, only 20 this time, hold their hand up to his and he would tell the size and add a comment.
At this time, I looked around at the 20 of us with gloves on and curled my very cold toes in my sneakers and knew one thing for sure: I was beating out 15 other people to get into that first group of flyers. And I did! All group one for me! We separated from the slow bird people and moved to a clearing to fly and catch our bird. All it really required from me when it was my turn, was to hold my arm out. The falcon guy took the falcon, threw it in the air, put some raw meat on my glove, and then whistled for the falcon. Who came at me all sharp claws and pointy beak and really, really fast. We got to do this twice and I will say, it was definitely pretty cool. The falcon is much lighter than you would expect and it really loved those frozen mice parts it was flying in for.
Once I had flown my bird, my person and I watched the video he took and laughed and commented how cool it was. We then also looked at the seventeen people still waiting to fly and I very carefully laid my leather bird glove down on the table and we left quietly and quickly. It was very cold and we knew all the fun had been had and we were both dying to comment on everything and everyone. This meant leaving before the horned owl was brought out, but we knew Owl Lady would be more than we could politely endure.
It was, as so many things with my person are, an adventure. It was not exactly what we had thought it would be like; it was time we spent shivering in the woods while patiently enduring bad jokes, weird company, and less actual bird time than anticipated. But it was also a car ride home filled with laughter and things we couldn't wait to tell each other. Also, a bird of prey landed on my arm as a woman cried about owls, and that makes me want to write, so not only an adventure, but a real win! I can't wait to see what crosses my person's Facebook feed next!
