Another falcon day: Kekoa was spotted first thing this morning by people who get up way earlier than I do, safe and sound. From the Rotunda to the Brise to the various ledges at City Hall, he was making his way short flight by short flight, bit by rest by bit towards home. It’s the going upwards that’s the hard part, but he was doing reasonably well at it.
His mother finally dropped some food to him and with that energy booster after a long day, he made it back home into the nestbox area while I was in the kitchen finishing up melting bittersweet into cream.
I went to where the fledgewatchers were having a party, coming at the last minute when hopefully the sun was okay, a chocolate torte (recipe there) in hand–two, actually, since I didn’t know how many there were going to be–and met some more of the people who are as crazy about peregrines as I am. My excitement over Kekoa’s majestic, strong flight last night was sobered by one person’s telling me about another juvie from before I started following them who took off strongly as well but then who didn’t survive. How worrisome this nighttime fledge had been.
Oh goodness. Well, then, all the more wonderful that he’s fine. (And stay that way, you two up there, y’hear?)
The thought suddenly occurs to me that I tend to cheerfully assume that since I survived last year, everybody and everything will survive everything thrown at them, too. Right?
When I got there, all four peregrines were at home and in sight, a juvie at either end of the upper ledge. As far as I could tell from my perch, they were watching us watching them.
Hey Mom! Those funny big prey down there–do they taste good?
They’re best with chocolate, honey.