DULUTH — The annual fall migration of a strange yet familiar species has begun atop Hawk Ridge, in an autumn scene as predictable as the colored leaves.
The species can be identified by upturned faces, craning necks-and the binoculars strung about them. Species: Human. Subspecies: Birdwatcher.
With Hawk Ridge one of the premier hawk-watching spots in North America, those birdwatchers are primed to witness the flight of thousands migrating from northeastern Minnesota, Manitoba and western Ontario to warmer climes in the Southern states and South America.
Last year a record 85,798 raptors (birds of prey) passed over the point, a wide stretch of gravel road along Skyline Parkway, high above the city proper on the eastern edge of Duluth. As many as 33,588 have been seen in a single day along this ridge, where the birds must pass to avoid flying over Lake Superior. The daily numbers of migrating birds vary dramatically depending on the weather and the time of year.
The focus of the birdwatchers` attention starts as a tiny speck in the sky, a fleck so small it seems that a blink will wash it from sight. Then a faint silhouette emerges, quickly growing into the familiar V-shape of a bird in flight.
To the uninitiated, it`s still only an object in the overcast sky. But to the serious hawk-watcher, it`s as identifiable as a rainbow.
Flap, flap, flap, glide. The flight pattern helps the novice narrow down the choices. A cry of recognition bursts from the crowd as onlookers reach the same conclusion: ``Sharp-shinned hawk, female, immature.``
Beauty in motion
As the hawk glides by effortlessly on thermal air currents high above Lake Superior`s North Shore, dozens of binoculars follow its movements. Once the crowd defines and counts the bird, the watchers move on to the next.
Another speck appears. Then another. Conversations end abruptly in midsentence as birders, as they call themselves, search the skies, some with powerful magnified scopes on tripods.
Frank Nicoletti, official counter for the ridge, takes all the commotion in stride. From the first of September through early November he`s at his perch on the ridge`s northern end, parked next to his pickup on the edge of the cliff. Seemingly oblivious to the constant chatter of onlookers who insist on comparing bird stories, he quietly sets to work.
Looking northward from one imaginary point to another 180 degrees away, he scans the sky slowly with his binoculars: Up and down, up and down, inching his way slowly over the horizon from left to right. Then he repeats the motion, again and again, 8 to 10 hours a day, seven days a week.
Almost nothing gets by his sharp eyes. On a recent day he counted 842 hawks, only one of which he couldn`t identify. ``No one is better than Frank,`` said Molly Evans, who was the official counter from 1972 to 1986 and who, with others, was instrumental in establishing the 315-acre nature reserve.
Back then, when Evans was on the wind-swept ridge counting alone, the birds would swoop close by her head. Today, because of the crowds on weekends, the birds fly far above.
``It can be mesmerizing,`` Evans said of being a counter. ``It`s OK when things are moving. But it`s harder when there`s few birds, or when you`re surrounded by people who want to count themselves.``
Counters and bartenders
``Being a counter is kind of like being a bartender. You can`t leave, but people want to tell you everything. It`s difficult to concentrate when people are counting out loud and you`re trying to count in your head.``
In his second year of counting at Hawk Ridge, Nicoletti has spent 10 years counting hawks in Israel and New Jersey and now in Duluth where he has come to watch for the more elusive goshawks. He, like others, traveled to Duluth because of its bird reputation.
So did Dudley Edmundson, who quit his job and sold all his belongings in Columbus, Ohio, three years ago to move here so he could watch the hawks.
``It`s the power and grace that they represent,`` he said. ``For everyone into raptors, it`s the same effect.``
Parked cars line the ridge for blocks, their license plates testament to the wide attraction of this sight: Texas, Wisconsin, Illinois, South Carolina, Ohio, Michigan, Idaho, South Dakota, and of course, Minnesota, with even a plate that spells it out, ``BIRDS.``
Some birders rest on the rocks that serve as a safety railing for the ridge; others settle into lawn chairs, claiming a spot they`ll hold for hours. Children scamper over the windy ridge with their dogs; monarch butterflies flutter by on their way to their own winter homes. Many birders pause only to see close up the hand-held hawks just caught in the nearby bird- banding station.
Bob Fitzsimmons, of Saratoga, Calif., drove up for a visit while on his way to canoe in the Boundary Waters. He was intrigued when he read about Hawk Ridge in Audubon magazine.