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August 9-12, 2005

Thanks for all the mail which identified the creature that Maggie caught and devoured on August 9th. It was a cicada.
I truly appreciate all the mail that I receive each day; they are a major driving force behind the daily treks into the park for ongoing photography. Please note that I read each one and try to answer as many as I can. Right now I am way behind in my replies so please don't think that you are being ignored. Also, there are a lot of mistakes made on the site--wrong names, spelling/grammar errors etc. Please let me know about any that you come across.
L.




Pale Male Jr. delivered a rat to Maggie who ate some and left the rest for Charlie. From where I observed on the north side of Pine Bank Bridge, it appeared that she had the inside and left the skin and tail for her little brother--nevertheless they shared the food that their father brought them around 6:00PM



Just before the food was delivered this evening Charlie (left) & Maggie played together in their empty playground.
Thursday Aug 11, 05



Charlie - Thursday Aug 11, 05.



Maggie
Thursday Aug 11, 05



Pale Male Jr.
Thursday Aug 11, 05


You can email me here: lincoln@palemale.com



Click images above for older photographs


Pale Male & Lola Update

Pale Male Jr. Update


This evening as a large group of us stood in the shadow of The Trump International Tower and peered through the tall wire fence to catch a glimpse of the two hawk babies frolicking in their private playground, I noticed a sudden brightness that could not have come from the late evening sun. It was little Maggie and her special friend (whose name I cannot pronounce or spell)—for now I’ll call him Mr. Horsie.
The sudden brightness came from my five year old friend’s smile as she announced to me that she had come up with the names that she would like to give to the baby hawks.



I can see Charles Kennedy throwing his thin stately head back with his white pony tail lashing behind him, laughing out loud of first being named after Pale Male Jr's mate, and now after the grandson of his all time hero Pale Male. To add to all this his name will be bonded to a special little girl’s name, whom if he was still with us, would be sure to take her for a special walk in The Ramble like he did so many times with me, and show her how to eat Japanese Nut-weed, and point out this flower and that, and have her smell some delicious leaf that he’ll crush between his fingers. Or maybe just sit with her on a bench and be totally amused as they watch a squirrel raid one of his own bird feeders in Evodia Field. Charlie & Maggie!
Maggie, may you get to meet many beautiful people like Charles in your long wonderful life. Charles, here’s your opportunity to catch and eat all the rats your heart ever desired.
photograph above of babies taken Wednesday July 20, 05.



Here's Maggie perched in a narrow window of setting sunlight that worked it's way through the dense westside buildings - Wednesday Aug 10, 05.



Charlie showed up after all the light was gone but still managed to distinguish himself against this beautiful tree and light sky - Wednesday Aug 10, 05.



Maggie is constantly enthralled with grabbing and playing with twigs, whether or not they are still connected to a tree - Wednesday Aug 10, 05.


You can email me here: lincoln@palemale.com



Click images above for older photographs


Pale Male & Lola Update

Pale Male Jr. Update


The Big Girl (Maggie's still working on their names) proved today that she is not only able to conquer sticks and twigs; see below- Tuesday Aug 9, 2005



She flew down into the thick green vegetation at the foot of the arch and caught this - Tuesday Aug 9, 05.



I could not ID it; from on top it looks like a frog, but below looks like part grasshopper-part cockroach - Tuesday Aug 9, 05.



Whatever it was it must have tasted good and/or she was very happy to have caught live, non-vegetative prey for the first time - Tuesday Aug 9, 05.



Big Girl very proud of herself, and I am too - Tuesday Aug 9, 05.


You can email me here: lincoln@palemale.com



Click images above for older photographs


On Sunday evening I told little Maggie that I would like her to name the two baby hawks. She appeared delighted with her assignment as she scooted up the path ahead of her dad. I cannot think of a better godmother for these two creatures and I look forward to hearing what her pure innocent heart conjures up for the two hardy little stinkers.


Pale Male & Lola Update

Pale Male Jr. Update


Pale Male on Pilgrim Hill - Monday Aug 8, 2005


I made it up to The MSB Pond after visiting with the Trump babies. I watched the little ducklings reluctantly awake from their snoozing and stretch their stubby undeveloped wings. One after the other they slid off the floating platform to go on another foraging expedition around the pond with their mother. I noticed as I had before, that some are almost as big as Mom and some 1/3 that size. As I offered them some raw peanuts the mother suddenly sounded an alarm and instinctively I looked up.
Pale Male glided into a tall Liden south-west of where I stood. The alarm from the mallard slowly tapered, and soon enough the mother regained interest in the peanuts and all her adorable ducklings indulged.
I made my way up to the west side of Pilgrim Hill with no particular rush. I homed in to where I averaged he landed and there, catching the faintest renegade rays of sunlight on a most cloudy evening, I caught the splendor of his red tail peeping through a narrow window of thick green leaves.
I took a few moments to soak him in as he eagerly devoured a fresh pigeon. The burden of his loss pressed down on me as I thought of the season and his present emptiness. I consoled myself that the happiness that is glowing down at Columbus Circle must be reaching his weary wings. I sat down and leaned my back against the wire fence and looked up at him as he satisfied his hunger. The pigeon’s feathers came spiraling down, each handling the air in its own way—some spinning, some floating as they fell toward the ground.
I thought about the pigeon, and that it must have been alive just minutes ago, and now with barely a noticeable advancement of the sun in the sky it has lost the gift of life. There goes a feather--down goes a foot--hither hangs its head! Each component of the bird is well accounted for, except its life. That component is gone without a trace. I wondered whether its life went into the crop of Pale Male, whether it came spiraling down to the ground, or whether it floated up into the air.
As my mind rambled away in the sticky summer evening, a little white dog put its front paws on my lap and looked at me with the closest thing to a smile that I’ve ever seen in an animal. She had a little red ribbon in her hair and made no apologies for interrupting my thoughts, instead she insisted that I drop everything and help her find her way back to the other side of the fence so she could continue her prancing with her two other siblings. What nerve I thought as I picked her up and looked at her straight into her little brown eyes. Her quick defense was to lick me on the nose and wag her tail excessively. I walked her back up the hill and through the small gap in the fence and set her down on the grass where her two siblings took the liberty to further muddle my thoughts with their jumping, licking and general endearing doggieness. One of them tried to be fierce with me but soon realized he was wearing a red ribbon in his hair, so instead begged to be picked up. As I felt his little feet on my chest and his warm tongue on my nose I scratched his back and felt all his wonderful life bubbling inside him. Where is it contained? I wondered. Presently I convinced myself that it was residing in this little guy’s tail by the way it wagged uncontrollably.
How precious it is whatever it is and wherever it is—that thing that makes feathers handle the air in a coherent way, keeping them aloft and preventing them from coming spiraling down waywardly. I thought of the third egg on Junior’s nest how it missed out on that tiny spark of life that had turned its brother and sister from a few ounces of liquid splashing around in small white shells just two months ago, into magnificent flying machines with seeing, smelling, tasting, feeling, hearing organs and even more than that—an invisible magical aura that makes everyone that sees them stop what they’re doing and gaze in bewilderment at their beauty and their...well, miracle of being alive.
I turned to Pale Male for the answer, if indeed there was one he would have it. But he merely hopped to this branch and then that one, and finally to one a little higher and he turned to the west then to the east and shook his feathers loose. Then he stuck his beak inside his chest and closed his eyes. He looked so peaceful and contented that I felt like at least part of my question was answered—just tuck your beak into your chest, close your eyes and enjoy the ride—it’s a short one!

Monday Aug 8, 05.



Pale Male Jr. perched relatively low down on The Time Warner Building at Columbus Circle - Mon Aug 8, 05.



Little Boy - Monday August 8, 05


Pale Male on Pilgrim Hill - Monday August 8, 05.



Pale Male on Pilgrim Hill - Monday August 8, 05.


You can email me here: lincoln@palemale.com



Click images above for older photographs


On Sunday evening I told little Maggie that I would like her to name the two baby hawks. She appeared delighted with her assignment as she scooted up the path ahead of her dad. I cannot think of a better godmother for these two creatures and I look forward to hearing what her pure innocent heart conjures up for the two hardy little stinkers.


Pale Male & Lola Update

Pale Male Jr. Update