Sometimes things long forgotten come back to us in a flash. That was my experience when I recalled my father telling me about a co-worker who had been attacked and injured by some kind of hawk. The bird swooped in from behind, striking the back of the man's head. Startled, he went down hard: bruised and bloodied.
The bird in the story was a Goshawk, an uncommon and secretive resident of our adirondack woods. In many many years of traipsing through the forest I had never seen one up close and the story of a sudden assault from above was long forgotten.
Until, on a recent hike, a loud screeching call alerted me to look up. Scanning the canopy to see what it was, I was startled to see a large bird hurtling straight at me. I was able to throw up my arms and duck and the bird veered off, passing a few feet above my head. In an instant my father's story of his friend's experience flashed back into my consciousness.
The bird landed on a branch maybe 30 yards behind me and continued its warning call. I was three hours into a buggy hike to a spot where I planned to take pictures for a video story I'm working on and my first instinct was to retreat back the way I had come. I knew that this behavior was all about the hawk defending its nest, and I didn’t want to disturb it, but the bird kept diving at me and circling around behind. So I went with plan B, moving up the trail as fast as I could.
Waving my hiking poles over my head proved to be an effective deterrent, and finally, a couple of hundred yards up the trail, it seemed like I might be out of range. But the Goshawk came in for one last surprise attack, I suppose it wanted to reinforce the lesson.
In one final strange twist I actually saw a second goshawk just a few days later. I was out in my canoe on one of the large lakes that I often visit and I heard the distinctive call of a bald eagle, followed immediately by the screamed warning of a goshawk. That is a sound I won't soon forget and my instinctive reaction was to duck. But this time it was further off and I watched as the eagle rose from a hidden perch with the hawk right behind. The eagle was easily twice as big as its tormentor, and probably could have stood its ground, but it apparently knew that once a goshawk has you in its sights it does not give up. And that some battles are not worth fighting.
If you are wondering, I’m not saying exactly where I had this encounter. Even a few birders going to the area to add this species to their checklist could be detrimental to the nesting success of this pair. And besides, you might get knocked off your feet by one angry hawk, I don't want to be complicit in that.
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