Uncaptured Capture

On Sunday morning, we were sipping coffee while watching as various birds discovered and pecked at the suet, peanuts and seed from the freshly-filled feeder. We'd had a 30 cm (one foot) snowfall over the previous few days and the temperatures were now plummeting to uncomfortable levels. I felt grateful to be sheltered from the biting wind, and marveled at how these tiny creatures just continue their routine regardless of the cold.

Sparrows are always out in full force, but we noticed that this group seemed hesitant to settle into their usual pushy roles at and beneath the feeder, opting to remain cloistered within the bushes at the back of the yard instead. We surmised that they might be trying to keep warm by basking in the only streak of sunlight to make its way into the yard at this hour.

A few moments later, we realized that the birds had probably sensed impending danger. Something large landed right in the open, toward the back of the yard. Its alert, vigilant profile told us it was a hawk (seemingly a Northern Harrier), and its stance indicated that it might have caught its prey. Frank could see that it did indeed have something in its grasp - probably a sparrow. I did not have my camera handy, but a small pair of binoculars revealed a sight I won't soon forget.

Just before it caught our attention, the hawk must have swooped down and snatched the hapless sparrow. I could see the little critter lying on its back, the raptor's talons dug deeply into its breast. Its little mouth was opening and closing rapidly. I was torn between continuing to view this moment in nature, and hoping to capture the image on camera. I opted for the latter. Passing the binoculars over to Frank, I slowly eased myself out of the chair to grab my camera from the other room. Frank stood to get a better view, and I suppose that our activity level was too much for the hawk. It flew off with its prey before I could make my way back to the window. A missed photo, but the mental image remains.

Part of me felt guilty for having provided the lure that brought these small birds into the yard. Without the bounty of seeds, they would not be here, allowing themselves to be easy prey for predatory creatures. I reminded myself that this natural ritual happens constantly, but we're rarely privy to witnessing it firsthand, especially in our own suburban back yards. Guilt began to ease its way into honour for having the privilege to observe.

I hope the sparrow had a quick end.

Below are some photos that were taken during and after our recent snowfall. Please click on them to see them enlarged.


Last week, we had hoped to explore a new (to us) conservation area called Stephen's Gulch, north of where Frank lives. It was the day after the main snowfall and we headed up there only to discover that there weren't any clear paths for us to follow. Since we had no idea where we could wander, and the snow was too deep for an easy amble, we thought it would be wise to return another time, once the paths were made visible by those more familiar with the area. Before we left, we snapped a few photos of the creek that runs under the bridge.




Some of the trees' branches hang low to gracefully touch the water.




Closer to Frank's place, we took Benny for his usual tour of the nearby wooded area. The snow continued to fall lightly and cling to the branches as we entered this enchanting grove.





The walking area also takes us along this creek. The cold water sounds lovely as it rushes along the shore.




The creek gurgles as it trips over snow-covered rocks along its path. Here, listen...

Night time brought more snow. This backyard shot was taken without flash. The snow appears more like rain.




Seconds later, with flash, individual snowflakes are more apparent.




Back at my place, Benny is busy making his own snow. The stuffing of his brand new squeaky football was strewn all over the living room floor. Now he's ready for a real game of tug-o-war. You can read more about Benny's antics over at Frank's blog.