Thursday, June 02, 2005

New eggs in the nest?? Blakeman answers Mai's questions

Below, John Blakeman answers the questions Mai Stewart sent in and others have been asking.


Mai Stewart’s incisive and thoughtful questions are one of the main reasons posting here is such a delight. We are dealing with observant, thinking, and questioning people – exactly the kind that make science such a wonderful endeavor. None of us are going to solve any great biological question here, but the questions Mai raised are good nonetheless – perhaps because I think I can answer them!

Mai asks, “If they're doing what they need to do in order to make babies (no matter why they're doing it), might this not result in new eggs?” If that were so, eggs would be possible. But the creation of viable eggs is a major physiological undertaking that creates distinct physiological stresses, ones the bird can accommodate, but they are stresses nonetheless. For example, a great deal of calcium must be deposited in the egg, both for the shell and for the skeleton that will develop within. “Dissolving” all this calcium out of both the mother hawk’s bones and from the food she eats is not an energetically simple task. (I know, Professor Martin, the calcium isn't just “dissolved,” but we are trying to make this all comprehendible for people who haven't had your ornithology class.) The mother hawk undergoes a bit of osteoporosis in creating eggs. Her calcium deficit is minor and is quickly made up while she incubates. But all of her reproductive hormones have to be perfectly timed, and it’s not just one or two forms of estrogen. (Sorry Dr. Martin, I forget the several other ones.)

In short, copulation does not necessarily lead to eggs. Actually, eggs destined for viability precede copulation. Copulation (in season) allows for the fertilization of an existing, undeveloped egg. It does not cause oogenesis, the production of a haploid female gamete. Copulation merely adds the male’s half of the chromosomes that allow the egg to develop into a new, genetically different adult. The egg comes first. (Raising the question, of course, are new eggs forming in Lola? I don't think so. See below.)

Red-tails often produce infertile eggs. That’s what prompted me to attempt to breed the species in captivity. A red-tail I held for study in a large rural cage, out of sight from humans, dropped down on to the ground in March, grabbed some grass stalks and leaves, and formed a very shallow nest on the ground. I thought it merely curious, and allowed her to “play house” or in her case, “play nest.” A few days later, when I went to feed her, I noticed her sitting on the ground all bunched up. I was certain she was sick. But slowly she raised up on to her feet. She had been sitting on an egg. I was rather certain that this was Ohio’s first, albeit rather contrived, ground-nesting red-tail. Two days later she laid a second infertile egg. As there was no male, nothing reproductively transpired. But that caused me to build a nest support structure the next winter, in which she could form a more proper, above-ground nest. Its eggs, too, were infertile, as she had no male. In following seasons, she accepted a male, but because she had been mishandled by other human beings before I got her, she never allowed the male to copulate with her. (She was imprinted.) She never produced a fertile egg herself, but for many years produced infertile ones.

She was allowed to raise week-old eyasses taken (legally, with others remaining) from wild nests. From these experiences, I've watched close up everything that breeding red-tails do except copulation itself. At the time, in the early 70s, breeding of raptors in captivity was still rare and uncertain. Efforts such as mine, meager as they were, contributed to proper understandings of raptor reproduction and captive breeding, which resulted in the breeding of most raptors in captivity. The peregrine was essentially saved from American extinction by the release of captively-bred birds. Virtually all modern peregrines now breeding in the East and Midwest are progeny of captive breeding efforts. My role in all of that (with red-tails) was inconsequential, but those experiences (and many others in the field) allow me to offer accurate explanations of the red-tails in Central Park.
Sorry for running on.

In summary, copulation by itself is quite insufficient to cause the production of eggs. Just as with my un-mated red-tail that built her nest each year and laid eggs, the prompts for doing these things are very closely tied to expanding daylight periods, which prompt the pituitary gland to start dripping a complex recipe of sex hormones that cause the uterus to begin ovulation. By itself, the fling thing isn't enough
(And watch. If Lola sits on her nest and starts laying eggs in June, I'll have to . . .? This pair has made me the fool several times before. I'm knocking on wood as I write this.)

And Mai, I didn't well explain the problems with late-season hunting. You are quite correct in asserting that Central Park has a year-round abundance of red-tail goodies. The problem is this. Even though there are zillions of pigeons, a few diurnal (day-active) rats, and always some squirrels, by August there are not many newly-hatched or young of any of these species still wondering around oblivious to predators. The majority of the vertebrates cavorting in the various natural precincts of Central Park in August have learned to become hard to capture. The easy pickings have been picked. There will be lots of animals to eat in August, but they won't be as easy to catch as they would have been in June, when many were young and naive to the ways of avian predators.

Secondly, the days are shortening in August and by late September, there are only about 12 hours of daylight in which to hunt. A newly-fledged eyass in June has about 16 hours each day to learn her lethal craft -- lessons that can't be learned with just a few captures, either. The young hawk out on its own needs to learn multiple ways to capture food, and this comes only by repeated practice. These essential hunting lessons have to be well-learned by the time nights start getting long and cold. A young red-tail that’s not an adept hunter by October is a goner. Capturing pigeons, rats, and squirrels is not easy. The craft must be learned to perfection. A shortened hunting season will make it difficult for the eyasses to be able to capture enough food during the autumnal migration, where they will have to spend much of their time flying, not casually sitting around and waiting for vulnerable prey to present itself. In migration, the hawks better have a high rate of hunting success. Otherwise, they become members of the 60-80% that normally die in their first year. It’s tough enough for the eyasses that have an entire summer to hone their killing skills. For a July-fledged hawk, there is little chance. I wouldn't put any of my money on a July-fledged red-tail trifecta.

Lastly, in reference to our pair’s wonderful adaptations to Central Park, Mai writes, “So, would it really be so strange if they defied even this aspect of "normal" hawk life -- and had a late family??" From a strict biological perspective, it would be very strange. But I'm knocking on wood once again. These birds have defied biology several times.

John A. Blakeman

They did it again: Blakeman comments


Donna Browne emailed her comments and notes on the recent copulations. She posed an astute question -- one that all CP hawk watchers are invited to answer. Donna wondered if the recent post-nesting copulations have been preceded with food offerings. The provision of such pre-copulatory enticements by the male is common in February and March, and indicates a depth (at least hormonally) of commitment and proper motivation.

If Pale Male is bringing food to Lola now, before copulation, I'm further flummoxed. There just shouldn't be copulation this late in the season, and now a second "fling on a perch thing" has been seen.

Donna also astutely raised the question of whether or not these post-nesting copulations are actually common in red-tails, but have gone essentially unseen. I responded that this is quite possible, as in typical rural RT territories, the birds range over one or two square miles, and when perched they are in leafy foliage where incidental copulations would be hard to see. These events are (to be indelicate -- nevertheless descriptive) always "quickies," so they could easily have gone unnoticed by field biologists. As I told Donna, I've not spent any time in May panning my binoculars against a distant tree line looking for the sex activities of local red-tails. Red-tailed hawk voyeurism has its rewards in March, when the sexuality of the birds is undisguised, as they copulate on open, easily-seen tree limbs. In my area, none of these are visible in May. Now, it's all green leaves out there.

I'm also quite certain that rural red-tails raising young don't have the time or impulses to be copulating right now. Every effort must be made to feed the rapidly growing eyasses. But for mature, empty nesters, where a breeding attempt failed, copulation my be a previously un-described element of red-tailed hawk natural history. If so, it's being seen and described in Central Park for what I believe is the first time. I encourage all NYC hawk watchers to continue your diligence. This is but another new, albeit short chapter in red-tailed hawk natural history. Keep up the good work. I'm learning much.

John A. Blakeman

Monday, May 30, 2005

A new hawk development

Yesterday Kentaurian and several other observers at the model-boat pond witnessed an odd sight. At 7:20 p.m. Pale Male landed atop of Lola, who was then perched on the "Smokestack" building. An unmistakeable copulation took place.

I sent a report to John Blakeman -- a fine excuse to resume communication -- and asked if this too was "displacement " behavior. Or was there possibly a chance that the pair might resume nesting and still raise a brood this year. Here is his answer:

Yes, any copulation by our pair at this very late date can only be a "displacement:" behavior. There are absolutely no known cases of red-tails re-nesting this late in the season. Even if the pair could lay an egg or two, it wouldn't hatch until early July. The eyasses wouldn't be able to fledge until August, and easily-captured food sources are beginning to really dry up in late summer. The young birds simply wouldn't have enough time to learn how to hunt and consistently capture food each day. Consequently, late re-nesting for red-tails just isn't in their stack of genetic resources.
The recent copulation does show that the pair is "deeply in love," stated in human terms, as it were -- not a good biological explanation, but sufficient for the moment. The birds are strongly pair-bonded, and they continue to act upon biological impulses. As I mentioned in an earlier posting, the birds right now should be hunting excessively and feeding growing eyasses. Normally, those activities would consume every bit of energy and behavioral impulse. Without the eyasses present, the adults' behaviors can wander, and an occasional fling in the hay (or a mounting on an antenna) is a momentary, delightful diversion that further strengthens the bonding between the pair.
It also has territorial implications. Modern evidence strongly suggests (at least in kestrels, but probably in all territorial diurnal raptors) that resident breeding birds are not only attracted and attached to each other, but also to the territory itself. Red-tails are non-social predators, and they commonly don't abide the presence of other red-tails. Their acceptance of another hawk close by, in the territory, as so often seen when the birds perch nearby, is altogether contrary to their un-mated natural disposition. Mutual perching and copulation mean that the birds not only are bonded to each other, but to the local landscape, their territory, in this case Central Park and it's adjacent buildings.
It's easy and convenient to ascribe human love and relationship behaviors to mutual perching and copulation. For readers who wish to do this, that's fine and sufficient enough. But as a biologist who's studied all of this rather closely for over three decades, and likewise as a falconer who has had unique personal experiences with this species, I find the pair-bonding behaviors of red-tails far more complex and important than merely "being in love." The birds are not in love. Those are high cerebral activities that birds in general and hawks in particular are incapable of. These pair bonding behaviors are driven by and centered in brain patterns very different from mammals.
For me, this makes all of what we've watched even more astounding and interesting. Pale Male and Lola are not feathered little people doing what all of us might for a time wish, to soar and raise babies. These birds are a separate, distinct species with their own, unique behaviors. Those are what I want to understand, as they relate to the birds themselves. For guidance on understanding proper human behaviors, I'll confer with Scriptural texts, writings by wise authors, and ponder my own experiences. To understand red-tails, I'll constrain myself to their own behaviors and the biologically-based explanations biologists offer. For me, their regality is actually elevated when I'm not forced to reduce their lives to mere shadows of human ones. Our (well, at least my) great joy has been to experience close-up the continuing lives of an authentically wild hawk species. That's rare enough anywhere, but in this case it's been in Central Park, in the center of one of the great cities in the world. It's been a great adventure, and the story will continue in due season, I'm certain.

John A. Blakeman