Image of a young peregrine (age not documented) at banding time courtesy of Anna Hesser on Flickr

One morning here at Acadia National Park, before my guys arrived to join me during my writing residency, I took the hour-long drive from my apartment near Schoodic Point to Mount Desert Island, to see what I could learn about the Peregrine Falcons’ nest on Champlain Mountain.

Several trails were closed because of the falcons, giving them room to hatch and raise their chicks, who on the day I arrived were 32 days old. The Precipice trail head parking lot was the place to go. On designated mornings the rangers are stationed there with powerful scopes on tripods, ready to point out the nest site and provide some education.

I had my binoculars, too, and pointed them up and to the right, as instructed. The nest area itself was hidden from view, but I was lucky to see the mother or father fly in, perch on a ledge, and then fly off again, likely to do some hunting. I learned that the nests are created on sand- or gravel-covered ledges that are scratched into a hollow by the parents. There are no twigs or sticks involved. I learned that, this year, there are 2 small, white, fluffy female chicks (“snowballs” who thus far look nothing like their parents). A small group that included a wildlife biologist and climbers determined this, and they banded the new birds so that they can be tracked. The chicks will fledge over the summer, and by winter they may head south (or stay in New England: weather dependent). (More info here.)

My shot of the cliff face at Acadia; the nest is in the vicinity of that (sort of) New Hampshire-shaped white patch, upper right

These birds, once fully grown, strike a powerful profile. They often hunt by “striking,” knocking their prey to the ground. Knowing this, it is hard to believe they only weigh a couple of pounds—all of that power in what amounts to not too much more than a puff of air on the weight spectrum.

And of course, the species almost went up in smoke. Rachel Carson’s famous book, Silent Spring, emphasized the dangers wrought by the insecticide DDT and is attributed as a key factor in saving the birds. Birds at the top of the food chain, like the Peregrines, were laying eggs that never survived, because of shell thinning caused by an accumulation of the agent (see The Rachel Carson Connection). To this day, Rachel Carson’s words spark some controversy (see here and here), and I don’t know enough about the research cited to draw a scientific conclusion. I have always thought of her in heroic terms. At the very least, she can be credited with awakening environmental consciousness and starting the environmental movement. Now, with social media, there is great hope for important information being spread quickly, with the hopes for saving some species from doom. Lately, I have been struck by information about plastics in the sea and how they are damaging a multitude of creatures. Now, as then, it is important that the science behind these concerns is carefully vetted, and that the solutions themselves don’t cause a new set of problems.

Peregrine stretching courtesy of Jerry Kirkhart on Flickr

I was moved by seeing the Peregrines’ home, but I was equally moved to see all of the humans below the trail head, peppering the patient rangers with questions and looking through their scopes. There were collective “oohs” and “aahs” when we saw the adult falcon fly, and the crowd was eager to zoom in on the location of the nest. Some had come for the Peregrines; others were passing through and quickly became interested in the tiny lives growing on a hidden ledge. Since the 1980s, Acadia has been involved in reintroducing, and then monitoring, these fine birds that we almost lost. The morning below the Precipice, with these knowledgeable rangers and watchful park visitors all looking skyward, gave me great hope.

Posted with gratitude to Acadia National Park, which, by granting me the writing residency, has made so much possible!