It was pre-dawn when I almost ran over this Peregrine Falcon on the beach. I was as shocked as he was when he hopped off the sand and onto this snag to avoid a catastrophe. Of course, I tried to see if he was banded, but as you can see, he was in the worst position imaginable for reading tiny bands that may or may not be on his legs. Besides, it was dark. And really cold. After we both caught our breath, I moved on and just hoped I would see him again sometime.
It was only about 20 minutes later when I’d see him again. This time with breakfast. Looking a little messy. And guilty. Don’t worry little fella’. I mean, bird’s gotta eat, right? Everybody knows that. You should have seen me about an hour ago, trying to eat a soft-boiled egg on toast in my cold, dark car. I could now see clearly that he was banded, but he was a little too far for me to read it, and… he was with breakfast. I wasn’t going to push it. So once again, I just hoped I’d see him again sometime.
It was only another half hour after breakfast before we’d meet again, about a mile down the beach. “Scuse me? Duz I know you?”
Well, I don’t know. Are you banded?
Maybe? I can clearly see your little band poking out there. But that is your silver federal band. I need to see your other leg. The one with the
good band. The one with bright colors, and big letters and numbers. May I see it?
“I’ll think about it. I don’t know you.”
I would see my new, little friend several more times as we both hopped around the beach looking for interesting things to watch and safe places to get out of the cold winds.
I guess he became more comfortable as I became more familiar to him. Because he finally walked over to me and said… “Mister?”
“I’m this one.”
BE/52. I do. I do know you. We know each other.
BE/52. The day we met last spring. At your parents’ house. The Atlantic Club Hotel & Casino.
Now excuse me while I go look for some baby photos of you. You adorable little monster! You made it!