I spotted a falcon perched atop the chain link fence surrounding a reservoir in Central Park on a recent early morning jog. I was shocked! I’d only ever seen falcons in cages at the zoo, and it wasn’t like I was up in the mountains or anything – here I was smack dab in the middle of New York City. I rubbed my eyes, making sure I wasn’t seeing things. But my eyes were not deceiving me. This was, in fact, a falcon. I stopped and stood there, enchanted by its shiny, healthy coat of feathers and its calm yet wild eyes. It was beautiful.
I usually stay in New York’s East Side or Midtown, which are close to Central Park. I much prefer the neighborhoods to the south like The Village and Soho which are full of book store and used record shops, but there’s no beating the charm of a morning run around Central Park, and I always find myself booking a hotel in Uptown. I love Central Park so much that I sometimes get the sense I wouldn’t ever visit NYC if the park wasn’t there.
I didn’t know it at the time, but it seems the falcon I saw is a bit of a celebrity. Falcons make their nests on steep cliffs, and if you think about it the skyscrapers of New York are a fairly suitable replacement. The smaller birds and squirrels in Central Park provide ample food. All this makes for a comfortable life for my falcon friend here in the big city (I have no idea if that’s true). It probably lives with a mate and raises little falcons. The squirrels and birds that become its prey probably think, “A falcon? Here? Just my luck.” But that’s nature for you.
I’m impressed by these New York falcons making their nests on the awnings of massive skyscrapers. But I could never live in a high place like that. I have an extreme fear of heights. Another way to say it is that people who fear heights could never be falcons.
My jogging route through Central Park towards Uptown and back is about ten kilometers. It’s a great distance. The air’s fresh and there aren’t any traffic lights in Central Park. I barely break a sweat in the autumn cool. I take a shower, get dressed, and order a breakfast of sausage and pancakes from a nearby coffee shop. I reflect on my run-in with the falcon as I sip on my black coffee. I wonder whether the falcon is enjoying a nice breakfast too.
I’d bet good money that there’s nothing quite as special as running into a beautiful falcon just past six in the morning.