Chasing off determined hawk ruffled some feathers
While one reader was aghast by the disruption, others offered sympathy
No matter how well-intended a person may be, somebody in this hypercritical world will be sure to tell them how wrong they are.
In the case of a hawk determined to steal three baby robins from a nest at our summer place, I was severely reprimanded by a reader for not standing idly by while the raptor made off with the babies as their parents screamed.
The reader levelled a charge of interference against me for waving my arms and yelling at the hawk, and asked why I chose to help the robins instead of appreciating the natural order of the hawk making off with the chicks.
Short answer: Because I’m a parent too. My reaction to the frantic tweeting of the parents was instinctual. And I’d do it again.
My July 30 column was about a family of robins that nested under the eaves of a garage at our cabin on the Crowe River, near Campbellford, and were raising three chicks until a redtailed hawk swooped in for lunch.
For several years, robins had nested above a light over the door to our cabin, where they were never preyed upon. But a dim bulb who did yard work for us last year knocked it down, prompting the robins to rebuild in a less safe space.
I asked readers for advice on how to thwart predators and was deluged with emails from people who experienced similarly distressing attacks, along with several who offered interesting ideas.
The best was from Nancy Anthony, who said she had a similar problem and that “the only thing that’s kept them away for three days now is four shiny helium birthday balloons on long ribbons.
Bunched together and moving in the wind.
“Placed them about 10 feet from the base of the very tall trees where they sit, screech and feast. Will likely be keeping the local dollar store busy but well worth it if it works.”
And then along came an upbraiding note from Julie Reid, who was “dismayed” by my column “on how to prevent hawks from feeding themselves and their chicks.”
“You didn’t put it this way in your article, but that is what you are doing,” said Reid, adding that “up to 50 per cent of hawk chicks die and one cause is starvation.
“Hawks have to work very hard to feed their young. If everyone was doing what you are trying to do, the percentage that starve would increase. I question why you chose to protect the robin and not the hawk. People interfere in nature far too often because we apply our own morals and beliefs to animals.
“Both the hawk and robin are doing what they can to survive, and predators have to eat or they and their young will die. It is not a moral issue. You should leave nature alone and let what happens happen.”
My reply: “Why was I compelled to protect the robin babies? Because they were in my yard, 30 feet from our cottage door, where for many years we have watched successive generations of robins raise their young without attacks from predators.
“You are one cold fish if you could stand there while a predator steals babies and their parents scream, on the basis that it’s just how the world works.”
Reid countered that “it isn’t cold to allow animals to feed themselves and their young. Nature is what it is. We shouldn’t choose sides and interfere. Human emotions, beliefs and moral judgments about animals have caused a great deal of harm to our natural world. It needs to stop.”
That’s a heap of blame to put on me, considering that my response was limited to hollering and waving my arms.
I understood that the hawk may have been hunting to feed its own young. All I wanted was for it to find that meal somewhere else.
And if the robins nest under the garage eaves again next year, I’ll try bouncing balloons as a deterrent.
Besides, the hawk managed to get two of three babies. I’ll borrow a line from an old song by Meat Loaf: “So don’t feel sad, ’cause two out of three ain’t bad.”