Heckled By ParrotsBlue Sky WritingRebecca K. O'Connor

A Bond with the Wild

October 28, 2009 – 3:44 pm

Last Saturday I had the pleasure of presenting at the International Society for Anthrozoology/ Human- Animal Interaction conference on falconry and how high level relationships with wild (rather than domesticated) animals have positive psychology and health implications. I know this all sounds very scientific, but mostly what I was saying in a nutshell that, “Humans ARE nature, not apart from it. We not only desire contact with nature in its extreme, but we require it.”

It was very well-received (much to my surprise and relief), which pleased me to no end. Here’s the bowl of mixed nuts. (As opposed to just the nutshell):

ISAZ/HAI Abstract

An increasing amount of research is demonstrating that Nature Deficit Disorder is a very real problem in our wilderness paranoid society. Recent research has asserted that contact with nature is essential for the physical and emotional development of children and has tremendous impact on the health and emotional well-being of all human beings. More than this, engagement with the natural world initiates a passion and connection between animals, landscape and human beings that leads to advocacy for sustainable use, respectful engagement as well as preservation of natural resources, most especially animals. With the diminishing engagement and hand-off attitude toward nature has come the vanishing of many traditional high-level relationships with animals, such as falconry.

This paper discusses recent research that supports a less hands-off approach to animals in the natural world and gives examples of some of the more intense and unique working relationships humans have with wild animals, focusing primarily on falconry.

Through the exploration of fifteen years of falconry experience, the paper discusses how a respectful relationship based solely on applied behavior analysis and positive reinforcement with a wild animal can bring depth, passion and well-being to humans as well as multiple other benefits to the animal partners.  This same approach when applied to the rehabilitation of wild animals or their care in education settings can be equally beneficial to both animals and their caretakers.

Individuals who engage in high-level relationships with wild animals are some of the strongest advocates for conservation and protection. Based on the correlation with recent research they may also be healthier and better adjusted, a possibility that is worthy of further research. Although not necessarily recommending that all humans engage in working relationships with animals, the paper suggests that there is a tremendous amount of value in these relationships and that they should be explored, embraced and should not be discouraged.

By rebecca •• Posted in Falconry, Feathered Thinking •• Comments (6)

Animal Teachers Past

October 16, 2009 – 5:00 am

One of the things that falconers learn to accept is that the animals we love the most are not ours to keep. Some we choose to have in our lives for a short period, lending them a helping hand and sending them on their way. Whether they are foster dogs on their way to a new beginning or  injured raptors being prepped for release back into the wild, they still touch our lives in deep ways.

Of course, the truly difficult moments are those when the animals we love dearly pass away. Falconry is full of life and death moments, some that truly break your heart in the end. The realization that we should cherish moments as they come is perhaps one of the most important lessons falconry (and life) has to offer. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately as the season approaches and I’m out and about reading from Lift and explaining what I tried to accomplish in the book. Although Anakin is the “hero” and the metaphor of the story, other falconry birds and animals I’ve worked with have cameos that color the story.

A friend dug up this old recording of a song I wrote and performed in High School (yeah, I had brief aspirations of being a rockstar…can you imagine, a solitary soul such as myself on stage every night? Blah!) and I found myself thinking about the blessings and sadness of a life’s goodbyes. The song and the montage complement the memoir.  Enjoy.


YouTube -  

 And read more about Lift here.

By rebecca •• Posted in Falconry •• Comments (1)

Falconry for the Greater Good

October 13, 2009 – 2:00 pm

Every once in a while a falconer will take in a bird that has been injured in the wild, work with it as they would a “working” bird and give it an opportunity to regain its wings, hunting skills and return to the wild. Over the summer Joe O. took the time to use his falconry experience to help out a peregrine.

From Joe, “The story with this little guy was he fledged from a nest site on a bridge into the water and broke his coracoid at the end of May.  It was a slight fracture the vet wanted him to have 3 months rest before release.  The normal medical staff at WildCare (rehab center) thought he was doing better than the other vet thought and called me in the first week of June.  I picked him up around 6/12.  Everything looked good to me so I worked with him a little and flew him free 7/18.  I flew him to the lure for about another month till he was strong”

Once the peregrine was up and running and proved he could indeed hunt and take his own meals, it was time to release him. Wish the little guy all the luck in the world…

By rebecca •• Posted in Falconry •• Comments (0)

A Train of Feathers

September 17, 2009 – 1:41 pm

IMGP1779It’s happening. The weather is cooling and it doesn’t matter that my days are packed with Ducks Unlimited, working out, writing, lecturing and traveling. I’m ready to fly falcons.

My falcons, however, are not ready to fly.

Last night I dreamt that I found the final two tail feathers, the outer two of the train shaken loose from my hybrid. I can’t drop their weight and get them in the air until they are done molting and these last two feathers heralded a two week training opener. At last! I danced and sang about it being my birthday and woke up disppointed. In the daylight, my grumpy falcon was holding all her feathers tight to her body, glaring at my inspection and proximity. Then she hissed and jumped away. I should have named her Garbo.

Yet, I can taste pheasant, smell the damp grass on my jeans, my heart races imagining the discovery of a raft of ducks, the jet craft roar of a falling falcon. I’m hearing falcon bells at intersections, even though there are no birds in my truck.

I’m ready to go, but I’m still waiting on the train.

By rebecca •• Posted in Falconry •• Comments (1)

Enjoy the Oysters

September 13, 2009 – 4:12 pm

I’ve been trying to put a finger on the mish-mash of feelings I’ve been swimming with lately. The memoir is out, of course I’m elated. But I’m also uncertain, if not terrified at times. The world has gotten suddenly noisy, but I’m often lonely. When I talk to media who have read the book I feel isolated between who I am and who they think I am, or perhaps want me to be. After all, the book is theirs now and not mine …and I am the book. If I did my job well, they will find themselves in there somewhere. Readers are smart. They ask tough questions and bless me with surprising moments of empathy. Things have taken on a life of their own and I’m excited to chase after them, but I could hardly say where the chase is going.

And sitting in a seafood restaurant in Portland I had a keen moment of deja vu. It was fourteen years ago and I was driving from California to Florida, leaving everything behind except 3 parrots, a red-tailed hawk and what I could fit of my own in my truck. I’d rarely been out of California. I had shut down the process serving business that had done quite well for me. I turned down the law school that had offered me a partial scholarship. And I ran off to train birds for a rich, but far from lucrative living.

I had stopped in Louisiana to eat creole seafood, because I loved seafood and it was something I had never done, because I wanted to do things I loved and had never done. Then I burst into tears when the waiter asked me what I wanted to eat.  

I didn’t know what I wanted to eat, but I gladly accepted the beer he brought after he assessed the situation. I didn’t know much of anything really. I didn’t even know what was going to be next. I just knew I had taken a tremendous risk and despite my sheer terror, was 100% certain that this was what I was supposed to do. That didn’t make me feel any less terrified or alone, but I wiped away my tears, ate my oysters and got back on the road. It was the best thing I have ever done for myself.

Now here I am again. So I’m going to quit my whining, enjoy the oysters and get back on the road.

 

Thank goodness, falconry is a mere few weeks and a couple of tail feathers away. I need some grounding.

By rebecca •• Posted in Feathered Thinking •• Comments (2)

Lift: A Memoir

August 20, 2009 – 11:09 am
liftcoverfinal

The Cover of LIFT

Captivated by a chance meeting with a falconer’s peregrine as a child, the indelible memory leads the author to flying a peregrine falcon of her own and discovering that the journey is not as much about training the falcon as what it is the falcon has to teach her. Exploring themes of predator and prey, finding tribe, forgiveness and femininity, Lift asks universal questions through the unique perspective of a woman chasing her heart in the wake of a wayward falcon.

It’s almost here…and so is falconry season.

By rebecca •• Posted in Falconry •• Comments (16)

But They Shoot Ducks Don’t They…?

July 22, 2009 – 12:48 pm

It’s hard to wrap my head around it, but I’ve been at Ducks Unlimited for almost a year now. The difficulty of the wrap around is less about the passage of time and more about the information I’m still trying to absorb. The amount of work that originates in the Western Regional Office is astounding. If you think there isn’t a whole lot of wetlands conservation going on on the West Coast states…you should give me a call sometime.

There is of course, more to learn than just what is happening on the ground. Working in fundraising means knowing the culture that surrounds you and understanding how to tell your story. And I’m always shocked at the complete misunderstanding of the DU story. Out in the interwebs and at dinner parties with friends what I hear the most is, “What’s the point of conserving ducks if you’re just going to shoot them later?”

I could go on for hours about the minimal impact of hunting, the value of natural resources, the importance of comprehending the value of food, the debilitating effects of nature deficit disorder and on an on but that isn’t really the question that gets asked. It’s “why save them if you’re going to shoot them?”

TealFlyingKays2It’s a valid question, or at least would be if “Ducks Unlimited” shot ducks, but we don’t.  Waterfowl hunters shoot ducks. Don’t get me wrong, we love waterfowl hunters at DU and it’s because these hunters also invest a tremendous amount of money in the conservation of waterfowl and wetlands. People who hunt waterfowl often support Ducks Unlimited. In fact, they are the backbone of our support. Still, Ducks Unlimited doesn’t shoot ducks.

So it would be more logical to direct the question to hunters and ask why they spend their money on conservation and supporting DU.  Every time I have, I’ve been stunned at the passion and articulation of their answer. It is a conversation I recommend every curious person ask. In fact if you don’t know any gun hunters, go ask NorCal Cazadora. She could write rings around my best explanation of why I personally hunt.

The bottom line though, is that Ducks Unlimited is a conservation organization. The people in the office with me are biologists, engineers, GIS specialists and support staff.  True, our restoration projects are open to hunters as often as possible, but they are also meant for bird watchers, bicyclists, kayakers etc. We prefer that wetlands be experienced and enjoyed. It’s the only way to convince people to put passion into doing the “right thing” and being conservation-minded. We believe that wetlands are of value to everyone and for multiple reasons. (Clean water, anyone?)

I hunt, but less than half the staff in this office do the same. For the most part, they aren’t here because they’re hunters. They are here because they have a passion for conservation. For some of us that desire to conserve was born from hunting and for others it came from camping, hiking or a childhood of collecting tadpoles and salmanders. We all believe in DU because DU does critcal work that has a tremendous impact on the quality of life for everyone and everything that requires water.

So dear friend from college, next time you have me over for dinner and we’re two glasses of wine into the night, please don’t ask me why I work somewhere that saves ducks so that we can kill them. Ask me about the $8.2 million worth of work we’re doing in the SF Bay Area and how we’re going to restore the salt evaporation ponds into tidal marsh. If your going for a heated discussion, ask me why I personally choose to hunt ducks with a falcon when my day job is to raise money to conserve them.  Even if I can’t convince you that it’s okay that I hunt ducks we should be able to agree that you should support conservation.  Please support Ducks Unlimited. DU doesn’t hunt ducks. I do.

By rebecca •• Posted in Conservation, Ducks Unlimited •• Comments (7)

Actually….that’s barbeque sauce…

June 19, 2009 – 8:04 am
Angst and Barbeque Sauce

Angst and Barbeque Sauce

It’s that time of the year again. Baby hawks abound.

This one, obviously has just recently fledged and is figuring out where to get a real meal in NYC. Makes you wonder what mom was bringing back to the nest.  Read the whole thing here. (Nice try buddy.)

My mom is now living in my house in Banning and she called me the other night, the distinct sound of a hungry young red-tailed hawks in the background, “I think the hawks are fledging,” she said.

“Prepare yourself,” I said. “It’s going to get worse. Wait until their parents cut them off.” It’s a falconer’s nightmare, really. Three hawks in three points surrounding the house, screaming their fool heads off at dawn. It gives me nightmares about imprints every year. And yet, I’m a little sad that after five years, I’m missing out on the very predictable and yet amazing cycle of redtail beginnings. And I’m willing to bet the hawks are missing me as well, or rather, my flock of pigeons.

By rebecca •• Posted in Falconry, Feathered Thinking •• Comments (1)

The Knife

June 5, 2009 – 6:45 pm

photo by Dan Kit on Flickr courtesy of Creative Commons Licensing

photo by Dan Kit on Flickr courtesy of Creative Commons Licensing

There is a click as the knife locks open and even this is enough to raise the hackles on my red-tailed hawk’s neck. Her talons tighten on the already stilled rabbit and I know she’s thinking of my hands pulling her prize away, preparing to reposition her talons between my finger bones to make her painful point. I turn my head and watch her from the corner of my eye so that we aren’t two predators competing through a stare. I don’t want the rabbit and I wouldn’t win anyway. I only want to help, but I have no way to explain other than showing her.

She’s earned her meal, but I can’t let her eat the whole thing. I’m hoping to fly her tomorrow. So she needs to have some appetite. Two front legs, the heart and lungs will hold her until then. The heart and lungs are the most rewarding part, but I have to break in for her, guide her choice of meal.  I ruffle the rabbit’s fur with my left hand, easing my way to the hawk’s feet, hoping she doesn’t grab me while the knife waits in my right hand. I think while I wait that I’ve carried this knife a long time and yet this will be the first time I’ve ever used it, but then, this isn’t the purpose I had in mind for it.

I paid $150 for my Spyderco, smooth silver, heavy and cold, with a round hole in the arch of the blade. The hole is a place for traction so that the knife will open smoothly and quickly. The clip on the outside is ideal for hanging off a belt, but tight enough to hook on my Doc Martens. It fits comfortably behind my ankle bone, snug between sock and leather, but it’s never comfortable enough to forget. I tell myself this is good, to remember the knife, but when I get into trouble it’s always the first thing I forget. Once there was a fistfight with an angry soon-to-be-ex-wife when I served her divorce papers. I didn’t know the pale and anxious blonde woman, but I guess sometimes it’s hard to differentiate the process server from the home-wrecker.  She punched me, a weak blow to my chin. I swung back with a right cross, its strength more from training than anger. Her family dragged me out of the house before I could even consider the knife in my boot.

They were kinder though than the smoldering tower of a man I served an eviction to a month later. The resonance of his silence immobilized me as his dark hands lifted me at my waist, holding me away from his body and discarding me on the street. He turned back for his house and I scrambled away. I held the folded knife to my lips while I sat locked in my truck, waiting for my legs to stop shaking enough to work the clutch.

Once I felt the wiz of a stray bullet chipping bark off the tree in front of me in the dark. It was a bad neighborhood in East Riverside and the bullet wasn’t aimed for me, but that wouldn’t have made a difference had it found me. The sound of the bullet brought me to my knees, but none of these things ever brought out my knife.

An attorney friend of mine asked why I don’t have a gun. He said he would help me get a permit to carry a concealed weapon, that it would be easy for a 21 year-old process server to lower her eyes before a judge and be granted permission. I shook my head though and patted my boot. I bought my boyfriend a Ruger for Christmas, but every time we went to the shooting range I left shaking. My aim was excellent, but it hadn’t made me feel comfortable with a gun in my hand. The silence of a resting Ruger feels similar to that man carrying me to the curb. I trust my knife, but I stopped keeping it in my boot.  It found a new home in my hawking vest, assistance for the first hunts in my new passion of falconry.

***

In the Old Vineyard by Tomas Pir, courtesy of Creative Common Licensing on Flickr

In the Old Vineyard by Tomas Pir, courtesy of Creative Common Licensing on Flickr

The redtail bows her head and warns me with her eyes that I’m pushing my luck, but I leave my hand in position and look away. I brace for the pain, but it doesn’t come and my hawk returns to her meal. I brush a finger across her yellow toes, feeling the dip of a missing scale, the ridges where the others come together. She stops looking up, stops worrying about me, so I slip the knife through the rabbit’s chest, opening a hole to the cavity beneath the skin. I put the bloody knife behind me, beneath a grapevine in the sandy soil. I reach over to stretch the rabbit’s skin and show her the opening. She drinks the blood and then eats the heart and lungs, her eyes narrowed into raptorial bliss.

When she’s eaten enough, I slip her off the carcass for a leg I hold in my glove, quickly hiding the rest of today’s meal in the game pouch at the back of my vest.  She rests easy on my fist and I stand to look over the dying vineyard. Another jackrabbit jumps up two rows over and gallops away from us, he’s moving fast, but his ears are up so I know he could be moving faster, ears flattened at full speed. I want to watch him disappear, dissolve into a speck of wild, but the sun is setting and I have a paper that I need to serve a few blocks away.

I turn to leave, but then turn back, deciding to watch anyway as he makes his way to the road line on the south side of the field. He can’t disappear without crossing the busy street and is smart enough not to try. He stops, fading in his stillness from my view.  Heading back to the truck, I relive the hunt in my head, the hawk’s powerful flight and the wingover into the equally powerful hare. I remember the desperate battle concealed in a cloud of sand. Then I smile over the fact that my redtail has finally allowed me to reach between her legs, assist her with her meal. I’m not thinking about the knife. I don’t realize that I’ve left the Spyderco in the field and that’s it’s lost to me forever.

By rebecca •• Posted in Falconry Flashback Friday •• Comments (4)

How Your Telemetry is Made

May 11, 2009 – 8:37 pm

Since I was in Salt Lake City on business, I couldn’t resist popping in to Marshall Radio Telemetry to check out how telemetry is manufactured. (Plus I had heard the Robert Bagley is an excellent host.) It was definitely worth my while.

Faceplates to Field Marshalls

Faceplates to Field Marshalls

Marshall still has the feel of a garage-based operation, small enough and friendly enough to pop in and say hello and talk shop yet with plenty of in-house heavy equipment and professional attitude. Most of the magic is made right on the premises these days, which is why you get your equipment so quickly. In the old days, many components were contracted out and an emergency order still involved a wait. (Done that once or twice over the years) Now you can often get what you need overnight. (for a price) And yet, Marshall is still the sort of place where R&D as well as ongoing improvements are sparked from interacting with clients and friends, a place where R&D still looks like a lot of fun.

Field Marshall Beginnings

Field Marshall Beginnings

The most impressive part of the visit though was of course, the machinery and the oodles of bits and pieces that come together like a puzzle and become our equipment. Much of what is made may look like plastic, but it is actually aluminium that has been annodized. The aluminium comes in blocks which has to be tooled in order to create the beginnings of components.

The remaining aluminium is recycled and although the metal doesn’t get a very good price, Robert promised me that it was enough to go into the coffee can for the annual office party.  Some of the parts are tumbled with small river rock-like bits of ceramic to smooth sharp edges, giving the parts that slippery plastic feel once it has been finished. All of the writing is also lasered on to the parts in the shop.

The Thinking Part

The Thinking Part

When everything is pulled together into the equipment you are used to seeing in your hands, the folks at Marshall still aren’t done. The electronics are tested, every single one, so that Marshall can feel confident that the product is reliable. This testing involves running the receiver for 48 hours, making sure that the receiver reads frequencies exactly as it is meant to. Electronics are also put into a climate controlled machine that runs the equipment through extreme temperatures to make sure solders hold and nothing in the component is weak and likely to break in the field.  There’s even a testing room, specially lined to make it possible to check signals on collars and falconry transmitters.

 If you do find yourself with a faulty piece of a equipment, when it arrives back at Marshall, someone is playing CSI, doing their best to figure what went wrong and how to keep it from happening again. I get the impression that they like a good puzzle or a challenge. (Especially when they find a solution.)

 

Tracking Collars

Tracking Collars

 

If you use their tracking collars, which I do and I love them, they are given the same thorough treatment. Marshall’s decision to create a collar that can run on standard AA batteries has definitely endeared them to the hound and pointer communities. And the lighted version is a real bonus to anyone who is running hounds. As a falconer, there’s a real convenience in being able to track the dogs and falcons on the same receiver. I just had no idea how many steps it took to create a single collar.

It was fascinating to see how all the pieces were tooled, anodized, lasered and assembled into the equipment that is such an important tool in my falconry. When I saw the million dollar piece of machinery that makes the tooling and therefore assembly a reasonable endeavor and realized how much effort went into creating the products,  I didn’t feel so bad about the expense.  Plus, the whole operation is just fascinating.

Next….the future of falconry telemetry…

By rebecca •• Posted in Falconry •• Comments (1)