And how these magnificent creatures rule at the top of the avian world
By Anders Gyllenhaal
By the time the Black-collared Hawk reaches the surface of the water, its talons are fully extended—like four sharpened fishing hooks poised for the catch.
The hawk barely slows as it strikes the surface, scoops up a cluster of snails still dripping with mud and water, and lifts effortlessly back into the air. The whole thing lasts just seconds—too fast to really take in the full mix of precision, power, and beauty it contains.
We were drifting in the bow of a small boat through the Crooked Tree Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize when we spotted the hawk perched at the edge of a quiet cove. If you love birds of prey, there may be no better place than this small Central American country, home to more than three dozen raptor species.
The Black-collared Hawk is a perfect example of what makes these birds so compelling. Its plumage is a rich blend of burnt orange trimmed in black. Its wings—stretching nearly four feet—are tipped in black, as is its tail. Even at rest, it exudes readiness as it scans for fish, snails, reptiles, rodents, and even other birds. It can launch at any moment—and I was simply lucky to have my camera ready when it did.
A Bird-Eat-Bird World
Not long ago, a friend asked how Beverly and I felt about raptors, wondering if we were put off by the havoc they wreak on other birds. Their presence alone can send waves of alarm through the landscape — and they were reviled and often targeted through much of American history.
There’s no denying it: this is a bird-eat-bird world. Hawks and eagles, falcons and owls—with no natural predators—sit at the very top of the avian food chain.
But that’s part of what makes them so fascinating.
Birds of prey have always been my favorites species—not just for the thrill of watching them in flight, but for the chance to witness nature in all its complex actions. Raptors play a vital role in maintaining ecological balance, and unlike many smaller birds that often remain hidden, raptors live much of their lives in plain view.
They soar overhead, riding thermals with effortless grace. Sometimes they call out as they glide, announcing their presence or flushing potential prey. They tend to hunt across open landscapes—circling lakes and rivers, scanning fields, and sometimes even snatching prey in midair. Wherever there’s space to hunt, there’s a chance to see them at work.
Hawks Everywhere
In Belize, raptors seemed to be everywhere we went, thanks to the country’s rich and multiple habitats and long-standing conservation efforts. Near Crooked Tree, we spotted a Laughing Falcon along the roadside. In the northwest farmland, Gray Hawks patrolled the fields. A White Hawk watched us from high above a mountain highway. Dozens of Snail Kites fished the inland waterways.
Yet you don’t have to travel to find birds of prey. Across North America, many species have adapted to the altered landscapes. Red-tailed and Red-shouldered Hawks are now common sights in suburbs and cities alike. Ospreys and eagles, once in perilous decline, have rebounded over the past half-century.
These are encouraging turnarounds—and they make this an especially good time for anyone drawn to these birds to seek them out. The fascination seems nearly universal. At the Bluegrass Birding Festival we just attended in Lexington, Kentucky, the raptor displays drew the biggest crowds. Even our two-year-old granddaughter has tuned in, already falling for owls—in books, on stickers, and, best of all, in real life.
Threats Remain
For all their dominance, though, raptors are not invincible. While they lack natural predators, they face a range of human-made dangers—threats we can do something about if we’re willing.
Pesticides remain a persistent and deadly threat, accumulating in the bodies of the animals raptors feed on and ultimately in the birds themselves. Wind turbines, when placed in migratory paths as they often are, pose serious risks. Habitat loss continues to shrink the spaces these birds depend on.
One issue, in particular, illustrates the tension between conservation success and ongoing harm. The Bald Eagle and California Condor—two of this country’s most celebrated recovery stories—were brought back from the brink after the banning of DDT in 1972. Yet both continue to suffer from lead poisoning, ingesting fragments from carcasses left behind by hunters using lead ammunition.
Safer alternatives exist, but adoption has been uneven. What’s especially frustrating is that lead bullets have already been phased out for waterfowl hunting in many places, showing that change is possible when there is enough will.
Why It Matters
I never tire of watching birds of prey—whether diving like our Black-collared Hawk, circling high above on invisible currents, or sitting still, waiting for the right moment to strike.
They embody something essential about nature’s power, balance, and precision.
I only hope future generations will have the chance to look up and feel that same awe—and that these magnificent birds will continue to rule the skies as they have for millions of years.
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