If you really want to do something, you'll find the time. I've been busier than usual lately, but my falconry hasn't taken a back seat. We've put a lot of work into the kestrels we're flying this year, and it's almost time to reap the rewards of our efforts. We're slowly starting to hawk them as the slips get good, and by prime hawking time, I'm confident they'll be dialed in if they don't get eaten by a bigger fish first.
My routine? It surprises non-falconers when I explain to them how small of a piece of the pie hawking in the field actually is. Their reaction is usually one of confusion and questioning. You make it look so easy. Like you just go out and hunt and have fun all the time. You're saying that's not the case? Why? Why do it when it's so much work for so little time in the field?
It's admittedly a fair question. Not only does successful falconry require more time working at home than time hunting in the field, but the hardships and tragedies that befall every falconer who stays in the sport for long can seem insurmountable at times. As the falconry saying goes, "The highs are high, and the lows are low."
The only answer I have to give: Those highs are still worth the effort to me, and I can't be knocked down easily. There's something about falconry when it comes together in a successful hunt that's incomparable to anything I've ever experienced. I think that feeling is highly attributable to the amount of effort and obstacles that must be overcome to make it work, and that is why I love falconry.
So here's what a hawking day during micro season looks like for me. So much work. So little time in the field. So worth it for that itty bitty black bird in the game bag at the end of the day.
Featured in this post:
Comentários