There is a cooper’s hawk in my neighborhood. I’ve seen her more than once. The first time I saw her, I was ticking away at my laptop, near the window that faces my backyard. It was around noontime, and she flapped into my view swiftly and suddenly. She landed weightlessly on my deck railing, carrying a rat for lunch.
I called my husband over and we both marveled at our predatory visitor. From inside the house, we couldn’t have been more than ten feet from her. Admiring her white and auburn feathers, all puffed up against the January afternoon.
She hung out for a while, at least 15 minutes. I assume she was surveying the landscape, making sure it was a good spot for a picnic. Cooper’s hawks kill their prey by squeezing it with their sharp talons and strong feet. The rat picnic she brought to my yard had already met its fate, its tail hung limply under the hawk’s foot. I did not watch her eat the rat, she spent all that time surveying the landscape, before gliding into my neighbor’s yard to dine. They have grass, where I have a concrete patio, so I assume that was they key difference to the hawk.
I keep referring to her as “she” but I didn’t have the opportunity to ask her pronouns. Among Cooper’s hawks, the females can be as much as 20 percent larger than the males of the species. I don’t have much to compare her size to, but she seemed pretty dang big, so I’m going with it.
Cooper’s hawks are remarkable for their adaptation. Their population was, at one point, endangered. Since DDT was banned in 1972, their numbers have returned and they are now listed among the animals we should be “least concerned” about. DDT was disastrous to birds of prey. The chemical caused their eggshells to become so thin and brittle that the mother bird herself would often crush them just by sitting on them. Since then, cooper’s hawks are more commonly spotted where people are than any time in the last 50 years. Their rise has been particularly impressive in Illinois. They find plenty to eat among the wilds of the forest preserves, but that rat was probably an alley resident until a few minutes prior. Around here a cooper’s hawk might be just as likely to dine on a rat as they are a chipmunk, squirrel, mouse, bat, robins, blue jays or finches.
I recently saw her again while I was walking my dog around the elementary school near my house. I live about half a mile south of the Cook County Forest Preserves. I don’t know where she nests, but between the forests and the alleys, this is a pretty good hunting ground.
She was riding thermal masses high over the now-mown prairie that grows in the school yard. I caught sight of her, and kept track with my eyes as she perched on the tallest pine tree on the block. She stayed there for only a few minutes, before taking to the skies again. I lost sight of her after that, and kept walking along my usual route. About 20 minutes later, I spotted her again – riding thermals high above the backyards and alleys in my neighborhood.
Cooper’s hawks are famous for their vision. Their wide binocular eyes, minor blind spots, and super speedy eye movement, help them scan for prey from far above. I wish I’d gotten to see her strike, and maybe one day I will. They evolved to hunt for varmints on the endless acres of tallgrass prairie that used to cover the state, but they’re equally ready to hunt among the forests and shrubby areas. Cooper’s hawks are built for agility, their rounded wings help them glide nimbly, and their long tails act as rudders, enabling them to change course quickly. Now they’ve adapted pretty well to city life by hunting for rats darting between garages and trash cans in quiet alleyways. Any backyard can be your picnic spot when you’re a bird of prey, who no one ever explained property lines to.
A cooper’s hawks favorite meals are common at your backyard bird feeder. Finches, jays, robins, juncos are all tasty treats to a cooper’s hawk. That means if you set out your birdfeeder, you might attract a cooper’s hawk, which will want to feed on the birds that dine at your feeder. This is the equivalent of eating a patron at an all-you-can-eat buffet. In the human world, we’d consider that at the very least, rude. In bird world, it is what it is. I haven’t seen one of my diners attacked by the cooper’s hawk yet, but I’m not ready to say I’d change anything about my habits if it did.
There’s lots of birds in my neighborhood, but hawks tend to stand out. They’re often much bigger than other birds, for one. An adult cooper’s hawk can stand up to 20 inches high, and weigh about a pound. To contrast, the next largest bird that visits my yard, the blue jay, can get up to a foot tall and weigh almost four ounces. The hawk is also harder to spot. A flock of grackles makes itself known, no matter what, but unless she literally plunks down on your deck, the cooper’s hawk is harder to get a good look at. I googled it, and the most a cooper’s hawk can carry, is at much as it weighs. A cooper’s hawk can weight about one pound, so most pets are probably safe.
