On the Fence

(American Kestrel)

(Reggie’s story begins on the “Wind Rider” page.)

Reggie’s range grew daily to take in the entirety of the neighborhood. He’d return often, chirping out a new call that became routine—his signal that he was back home. During this period, he’d permanently abandoned my roof and low fences in favor of the more distant high phone wires. All good. What wasn’t good were the neighbors who began to worry that this bird— who didn’t seem to be at all afraid of them—might be dangerous. I spent hours assuring each family that inquired that there was no need for concern.

Promises given lightly have a way of coming back at you. One night, Reggie must have tried to perch in the maw of a chimney vent for a peaceful and warm sleep but instead slid down the chimney flue to emerge in the rec room of a very startled family. Luckily, the dad was savvy enough to just throw a blanket over Reg and phone me. The call WAS pretty urgent and not all that friendly. Oops. Again, now what? The answer was obvious. To make Reggie safer, I needed to release him much further away from our shared homestead. I was OK with the decision in that it was clear to me that he must be hunting and feeding himself as his visits to my yard and pleas for food had become infrequent.

Several months had passed since I’d first taken Reggie in. Summer had turned into fall and fall moved on into winter. I thought about Reggie less frequently, only hoping he was out there somewhere living the life of a healthy young Kestrel. Clearly there were dangers for him too—especially ones that might occur if he’d not learned to avoid humans. That was the risk of raising him. All I could do was hope that Reggie’s prolonged absence heralded a happy and successful conclusion to his and my story. But there was another chapter—one that you’ll insist I just made up. I didn’t. This really happened. Really.

On Christmas morning of that same year, I was sitting by the wide doors that opened into the back yard. I heard the call, Reggie’s special call, “I’m home.” I raced out to the patio where I could see the wires at the back of the yard. There he was. And there sitting coyly next to him was a buff colored female. And then they were gone.