In times when it seems the entire world is in a state of chaos it’s helpful to look at Mother Nature. Like all good mothers she can have a calming influence. I found that to be helpful after all the troubling news of the last several weeks.
It is time for the annual hawk migration and if you are looking for natural organization this is a good place to start. It’s a peaceful drive down the Blue Ridge Parkway to milepost 95.3 where you will find Harvey’s Knob overlook. This is an ideal place for watching the migrating hawks.
Every year starting in September and continuing into late fall birds of prey start their flight to warmer climes. All way from eastern Canada they follow the mountain ranges leading to the southwest and on into Mexico. Watching and cataloging the migration is a subset of bird watching and there are few places more productive than Harvey’s Knob.
Nearly every day there is a group of observers scanning the sky for targets. It takes a sharp eye to spot a hawk a thousand feet above, then special skill to find it with your binoculars and make a positive identification. I have found those making the count are willing to talk with you, but don’t expect a lot of eye contact; their heads are always turned upward.
The past week I made my trek down the Parkway and found Baron Gibson, a no-nonsense observer. He is a retired firefighter from Roanoke City who spent most of his 28 years protecting us in the Southeast Station. Since 1998 he has been watching the migrations. There are numerous birding groups who have Harvey’s Knob manned; they are quite serious and methodical in their data collection.
Baron said the hawks can detect minute pressure changes and wind direction, so they spend most of their airborne time sailing south. Although he didn’t mention it I suspect they have a built-in GPS that senses magnetic patterns. I wonder if, with their remarkable eyesight, they can see temperature which would guide them to the thermals they use to ride to incredible altitudes. There they form a river of hawks drifting south but guided by unseen forces. At night they roost in forests, making for a very nervous rabbit/squirrel/mouse population.
When, after many miles, they have descended to a low level, they find a thermal and take an invisible elevator back to cruising altitude. A collection of hawks in such a pattern is called a kettle for reasons I forgot to ask.
Now here is the amazing part: On an extraordinary day, September 18, there were more than 8400 sightings from Harvey’s Knob. Almost all of them were Broad Wing hawks, but a few Ospreys and Bald Eagles were in the mix. The earliest appearance of the rare Golden Eagle was recorded on September 3. Baron described September 18 as a “once in a lifetime” record. The previous daily high had been in the 5000 range. Later in the season, the populations will change but it is unlikely that record will be eclipsed. September will close out with more than 20,000 birds spotted. The previous monthly high was 15,200.
Why there should have been such a crowded sky is hard to explain. The day I visited with Baron, there were only 17 sightings. Weather must have something to do with it, but I suspect it is more complicated than that. Mother Nature speaks with an unknown tongue, one we cannot hear.
The data are all entered into the Hawk Migratory Association of North America website and important trends are noted. Go to the Harvey’s Knob Hawkwatch site on Google. It is a real jaw-dropper
Of course, all this is governed by instinctual behavior but humans have replaced instincts with intelligence. Beyond infancy, there are no surviving instincts. With only slightly tongue-in- cheek, one might think that political survival for elected officials is instinctual; certainly some of their reactions, such as closing down the government (and the Blue Ridge Parkway amenities) seem to defy reasonable thought and are directed toward finding a thermal that can keep them in the lofty seats to which we have elected them. If their behavior doesn’t improve by October 17 then they may find the wind beneath their wings considerably more turbulent.
Hayden Hollingsworth