Over the years, I've written about the challenges and joys of monitoring raptor nests for the state of New Jersey.
The most demanding part of the voluntary job each breeding season is the weather – keeping an eye on a distant nest site in the cold late winter or the sometimes scorching heat of early summer.
In comparison, the rewards often seem fleeting. The moment that you see a fuzzy little head pop up in a nest is breathtaking, a confirmation of another active nesting season.
This past season's most memorable moments ranged from exhilarating to tragic, and they left me with a new appreciation for the challenges our raptors face.
Last spring, for the fourth year in a row. I monitored a North Jersey peregrine nest site from a quarter-mile away. One May morning, however, I was able to watch up-close as a team from the state's Endangered and Non-game Species Program retrieved five three-week-old chicks from the nest I monitored, then measured them and secured an identification band on each young leg.
Then came the magical moment: When I gently secured one of the nestlings in my hands for it to be banded, I felt its tiny heart pounding away under its downy white feathers. I know this sounds corny, but I could not tell whose heart was beating faster – the little guy's or mine.
Alas, this season has seen its tragedies as well. Last month, a fellow Allendale resident notified me about a hawk that had remained flightless in his yard for several hours. My wife and I arrived to find a young red-shouldered hawk huddled at the edge of the yard.
When I gently placed a towel over it, I could feel its heart beating through the terrycloth. My wife and I placed it in a large padded bin and kept it overnight for safekeeping. Although we have had many houseguests over the years, this was our first young raptor, and it made for a fitful night.
The next morning I brought it to the Franklin Lakes Animal Hospital, where it was transferred to The Raptor Trust veterinary facility in Morris County. Despite everyone's best efforts, it was dead on arrival.
This summer, on separate occasions, two fledglings from another peregrine nest that I help monitor were found injured and taken to The Raptor Trust as well. One died, but the other survived. Last I heard, it was learning to fly with the help of a foster-parent peregrine named Noodle.
I write this because my experiences of this recent nesting season underscored just how fragile the lives of these young birds are, and how they need all the help we can provide.
If I had to do it all over, I'd do it again – in a heartbeat.
The Bird Watcher column appears every other Thursday. Jim's latest book is "The Peregrine Falcon," from Schiffer Publishing. Email him at [email protected].
This article originally appeared on NorthJersey.com: Raptors in North Jersey face challenges. What volunteers do to help