WRITTEN BY: Kim Doner PHOTO CREDIT: Gary Siftar
COVID sucks and is going to suck for a while.
We’re all nervous about the coming weeks, exhausted from the past months and fresh out of ideas for entertainment, education, life-enhancement and pretty much anything to distract us from the realities of 2020 (admittedly, those problems are for the fortunate ones of us, but we all seek mental health regardless). Families are desperate for something else to do that’s safe and inexpensive. Holidays add stress to an already stressful existence; gift-giving feels mechanical and limited considering the risk from crowds while shopping. What to do?
I have one word: binoculars.
I’m not going to play “Consumer Reports” on brands here. Binoculars are much like anything else with lenses: the sky’s the limit, so do your own research within your own budget.
What I am going to launch into is something very cool that happens during the winter
months here in northeastern Oklahoma that could be enjoyed at many levels by many ages and walks of life—bald eagles.
October and November are commonly the months of flirtation and courtship for these famed raptors. The weather gets cold, and their interest warms up; males will fight for territory by locking talons high in the sky and plummeting downward in a conjoined spiral. But males and females will also enact the same death dives, called “cartwheeling,” as they connect in the ether to spin hundreds of feet toward the ground before breaking apart. It can be a spectacular display and is widely sought by eagle aficionados when filming or documenting behavior.
Other phases of courtship can be seen when they do a combination of ups and downs in flight, where the male chases the female to follow a roller coaster pattern of steep drops then sharp pull ups as a means of testing for compatibility. They may then begin calling to each other, perching closer and closer, in an avian form of “getting to know you.”
Some experts believe these are all trustbuilding exercises. Once the female accepts the proposal of the male, she sits on a branch, and he delicately lands on her back to mate. Being as how eagle feet can grip up to 400 pounds per square inch, this, too, is an act of trust, especially since their toes are equipped with knives (aka talons).
Allowing another animal to hold onto you with a physical weapon able to crush skulls certainly lends credibility to any phrases relating to their courage, loyalty or steadfastness, doesn’t it? At least for the ladies.
I can’t imagine what kind of handshake that grip would translate into, probably something from a monster movie.
The female has to believe her future fellow will be skilled and gentle during mating and that these traits will continue, for as they become parents together, they will both share in the care of their eggs and young. For eagles, this extends over winter months threatening bitter winds, hail, rain, sleet, ice and snow. So falling through the sky works for these wild couples better than many of our more sophisticated means as humans— not that I recommend trying it.
A pair will mate for life; a widowed bald eagle will also pair up again if given the opportunity. There are even documented circumstances of two male eagles who share a female, and two females who share a male. They are very social birds, so the best way to attract one bald eagle is to have another one nearby for friendship and hanging out. Neighborhoods offering fishing opportunities and good roosting sites attract these raptors, so it’s common to see several together.
The terms for avian groups are fun: a parliament of owls, a flamboyance of flamingoes, a charm of hummingbirds and a convocation of eagles. Bald eagles, in particular, evoke an image of formality. The term is quite fitting when a large group of mature birds gathers, and the white plumage of their heads and necks stands out in stark contrast to the dark feathers below. Eagles don’t sport such fashion until they’re 4 to 5 years old at the earliest, but once those brown heads turn stark white, they’re good to go.
Females often out-size the males, so if you see a pair, there’s a good chance she is the larger of the two. Together, they choose their home, usually an older tree with a great view; one absolute for selection is a sentry branch for panorama detail, while another requirement is to be near water for finding food.
They work together to build an aerie or to reconfigure one from previous years. These are amazing, enormous structures that can weigh up to 2 tons, so the earlier winter months are great times to watch as the pairs bring materials such as limbs, branches and
solid-looking debris for the outer area of the nest then line it with grasses, moss and any of the softer flora in the center.
The mother-to-be is usually the architect of the nest and secures each piece with her beak, tucking in the stray strands to make a nest cup just over a foot wide and about 4 inches deep. There she will lay up to four eggs (though usually two) and spend most of her days incubating them, trading places with her mate at night. As he has already scored her heart, it’s a given he will keep her fed and comfortable for this time.
In the wild, they might live 30 years. In captivity, they can live around 50 years.
Their eyes are dark brown when they’re born but, like their heads, lighten as they age. Wingspan can be 8 feet; weight can be 14 pounds, and they can prey on another animal up to about 5 pounds.
Here’s a question: how do you think we humans know all this stuff? Here’s an answer: we volunteer. We are taught how to observe and record eagle life. We work with places like Sutton Avian Research Center in Bartlesville, which will be hosting a virtual class for training us. From there, we’ll be connected with seasoned mentors, then assigned territories and have a solid idea of how and where to watch for eagle activity. Hey, we’re part of the BEST (as in Bald Eagle Survey Team)!
Remember those binoculars you gave the family? Everyone will want a pair now. Make it a winter tradition: schedule trips to your territory, taking care to not intrude on eagle life. Let your group know that younger birds—possibly with first mates and establishing first homes—need space.
Following guidelines is important (and such guidelines are taught to new volunteers). After completing the class, you are now considered “citizen scientists” and essential to furthering our national bird. Here is a chance to build an entire new culture in your family: respect for nature, enjoying the outdoors, and (with luck) the chance for a big payoff— watching an eagle family develop.
Eagle eggs are about the size of a tennis ball and hatch around five weeks after being laid. Parents take turns constantly attending the nest to keep the babies warm and protected for the first two weeks; some nature photographers offer compelling photographs of an eagle parent covered in snow, warming the young. Pale gray fuzz is quickly replaced by true plumage over the following six weeks as the eaglets develop thermoregulation, flight feathers and the ability to tear food from a carcass to self-feed.
At two months of age, eaglets are ready for branching in a nearby tree; they navigate limbs as flight skills grow (you’ll see tons of practice flapping), then they stick with
their parents a few more months for hunting lessons.
All of this is currently happening right under our noses. Here in the Tulsa area, there are three territories anyone can observe. One has a seasoned pair easily observed in River City Park, near Hwy. 55 in Sand Springs! Another popular eagle-watching point is on the east side of the Arkansas River from Helmerich Park, where Tulsa Audubon Society has often held Eagle Days in January for the public. Using those new binoculars, study the west side of the river for airborne activity.
A third aerie is located in an easyto-spot tree on the west side of Hwy. 75 and the north side of the Creek Turnpike where they intersect. Known as “Polecat Creek territory,” once your family knows how and where to find it, driving past to see the white heads of adult eagles can become a highlight for your backseat passengers.
Of course, an even bigger payoff would be to sight the youngsters perching in a big family scene!
Log it, love it and live it: Eagle Days, just for you and yours.
I shall close with a warning: this is habitforming. Once you and your crew have your own binoculars, cameras will be on the list for next year. Contributing to Sutton, joining Tulsa Audubon, planning field trips, becoming bird nerds … we rejoin the world again, in a slightly different way.
Ready to do some branching of your own?
For more information on Sutton Avian Research Center in Bartlesville, call (918) 336-7778 or email [email protected].
