Sharp-shin hawks are the smallest of the Accipiter genus found in the U.S., easily confused with the slightly larger but similarly marked Cooper’s hawk. (Carla Kishinami/CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
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Sharp-shin hawks are the smallest of the Accipiter genus found in the U.S., easily confused with the slightly larger but similarly marked Cooper’s hawk. (Carla Kishinami/CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
Although it was almost 20 years ago, I fondly remember an avian encounter I had in the woods that would alter, I imagine, at least the short-term future of three different species.
I was trekking with a group of high school students, teaching a lesson on forest ecology. I needed to retrieve some materials at our streamside forest site, so I sent the students up the trail with the other teacher toward a stand of mature upland oaks.
At that moment, from the corner of my eye, I saw a gray blur streaking around a couple of American hornbeams, then right past me, then pausing in a fluttering tangle a few feet away. The flurry of feathers diverged into two separate objects that immediately fell to the ground, and I found myself in triangulation with the perpetrators of this commotion: a sharp-shinned hawk (Accipiter striatus) and a little brown bird (I’m going to go with Brownous littleous). An epic and tense standoff between a predator, its prey and the mysterious character (me).
The impasse only lasted a few seconds before both birds regained self-awareness and bolted in opposite directions. I guess I was perceived as a mutual threat. I stood there for a moment, awestruck by the hawk’s agility to weave effortlessly and precisely through those dense woods in pursuit of sustenance. I’m sure the little brown bird went on to regale generations of kin with tales of its narrow escape.
Sharp-shinned hawks are the smallest of three species from the genus Accipiter that are native to the United States and Canada. Goshawks (A. gentilis) are the largest of the three, followed by the Cooper’s hawk
(A. cooperii).
As with most raptors, sharp-shinned hawk females are the larger gender, roughly the size of a crow. Males are noticeably smaller, closer to the size of a blue jay. They get their name from the sharp, laterally compressed keel-like skin on the front of their long skinny legs — though don’t expect to see this from any distance.
Sharp-shins are true forest birds. They breed and nest deep in forest interiors. They are perfectly adapted for forest conditions: short round wings and long tails that they use as a rudder to maneuver around trees. Though small in stature, they are stout-hearted when pursuing their prey — smaller songbirds like warblers, sparrows and thrushes, but also occasionally insects, small rodents and reptiles.
They are “pursuit hawks” and prefer using various covers to strike at short distances during flight. Although they nest in the forest interior, they will pursue their prey at the forest edge and even in wooded suburban neighborhoods, where birdfeeders offer the opportunity for a quick meal.
(It’s worth noting here that, as much as you may want to protect your beloved feeder birds, you may not do so by killing the hawks; they are protected under the federal Migratory Bird Treaty Act. Harming them will result in a hefty fine. The best way to keep hawks at bay is take down the feeders for a few weeks.)
Known as “variable” migrators, sharp-shins in the Chesapeake Bay region might be year-round residents or short-distance migrators — for example, summering (breeding) in Pennsylvania and wintering in Virginia. Others are long-haulers, breeding in far northern climes and wintering far to the south of us.
They are solitary during the breeding season (late May to early July) and prefer to nest in conifers for cover and protection from predation. The larger females do most, if not all, of the nest construction, while the males … well, I suppose they strut around and pretend to be in charge. And they hunt, of course.
It’s a similar division of labor during incubation, which lasts roughly 30 days, according to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. The female broods, and the male hunts and delivers prey to the nest.
About a month after hatching, the young start venturing out of the nest to nearby branches. They begin to fly a few weeks later, though the adults continue to feed them, often in midflight. In another few weeks the young are ready to explore and hunt for themselves.
The sharp-shin is quite easily confused with the Cooper’s hawk. The two have similar coloring in both immature and mature stages, and the two species occupy similar forest habitats. Further confounding identification, female sharp-shins are often as big as male Cooper’s.
The tails can help you distinguish between the two species. Sharp-shins generally have a squared-off tail, while the Cooper’s hawk’s is longer and more rounded. Sharp-shins also usually have smaller heads in proportion to their wings. Sharp-shins have been described as flying mallets and Cooper’s as flying crosses. As with most species of accipiters, they fly in a similar fashion: three to six wing flaps followed by a glide. But the sharp-shin’s wing flaps are usually much faster than the Cooper’s and difficult to count.
Since my encounter with the sharp-shinned hawk that day, my appreciation for these forest raptors has grown. The species was devastated by the now-banned pesticide DDT but has made a remarkable comeback by adapting to succeed in a changing environment.
Unfortunately, climate change may affect their breeding areas and the ability of nestlings to survive. Rising temperatures could extirpate them from our region as acceptable breeding sites move north.
You can’t care for something if you don’t know about it. The more we observe and learn about the amazing animals of the Chesapeake Bay watershed, the more we understand the importance of protecting its beauty. And personal interactions, like mine with the hawk, tend to give us the greatest appreciation for our natural places. That appreciation drives us to steward our land and waters, so they remain hospitable for all wildlife for years and centuries to come.
I hope that our efforts to reforest open ground and keep forests from being converted to other land uses will help maintain a livable habitat for the sharp-shinned hawk and its fellow forest inhabitants.
Craig Highfield is the forests program director for the Alliance for the Chesapeake Bay.
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