A Ballet in a Maelstrom-- Launching the Falconcam

Yesterday was a big day. After ten years' tenure in the capable hands of Eastman Kodak, responsiblity for hosting and producing the Birdcam website "migrated" to another home. Like so many of the falcons that have fledged from the Kodak tower, the program didn't travel far. The Genesee Valley Audubon Society, long a partner with Kodak in the Birdcam program, took up the challenge, and after a few busy months and a downright hectic final week, I'm glad to report that the Birdcam has been reborn as the Rochester Falconcam!

It wasn't easy, but the all the hard work put in by the RFC team has really paid off. One of our final tasks was to clean the cameras to make sure we'd be transmitting clear images for all the world to see. We couldn't have picked a worse day to do the work, though. Temperatures well below freezing get downright pesky when they're borne on whipping winds 230 feet (70 meters) up in the air. Add a couple of angry Peregrines protecting their turf and it makes for a challenging day.

Naturally, I brought my camera along. Despite gloomy skies and an approaching late winter storm, I figured I could get at least a couple of decent shots of the falcons. I'm happy to say that in this respect I was handsomely rewarded, apt recompense for the discomfort of numb fingers and frost-nipped noses.

As soon as we stepped out onto the catwalk we were greeted in typical Peregrine style-- kacking and stooping. Only, to my surprise, it was Kaver taking the initiative:
     

Mariah wasn't far behind though, and unlike her mate, she wasn't afraid to get in close. Her inverted attack dives are spectacular:
          

Ducking is de rigeur in situations like this, hard hats notwithstanding. Sometimes though, Mariah would just stare at us, kiting on the swift currents swirling around the steeple of the tower:
     

She provided excellent views of her split-winged flight style as well as her injured foot. It appears to have healed very well, with no trace of the lameness we observed last year. She was remarkably silent for the most part, issuing her war cry only a couple of times during the hour or so that we invaded her domain.

Meanwhile, Kaver circled, never getting too close, but letting us know he was around nonetheless:
     

As ever, Mariah was the principal aggressor. She didn't make contact, but then we weren't terribly threatening, and other than an empty nestbox, she had nothing to defend. I'm confident that come banding day she'll be right back to her usual modus operandi -- hard hat thumping and t-shirt shredding. She and Kaver did engage in a brief bit of tag-team:
     

He took a break after a time, leaving the field to Mariah, who showed no signs of fading:
     

     

Shooting the Peregrines against a blue sky is a joy. Even a lifeless gray one makes a worthy canvas, but I think some of my favorites shots are those that add some context, placing the falcons within their urban environment. They're challenging too-- there's a lot of competition for my camera's autofocus algorithms. It takes steady panning, a technique I'm still developing, and a bit of good fortune to make the shot, but when everything comes together the result can be oh so rewarding:


I'll end as I began, with Kaver:


We did some work while we were up there as well, but that's the boring stuff. Like me, I suspect you're here for the birds. It was a ballet in a maelstrom: The glorious ferocity of the Peregrine on a bitter winter day. Magnificence on ice, and, for all its discomfort, a thing never to be missed.