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SHARP-SHINNED HAWK

(ALIAS "LITTLE BLUE DARTER")

#32: 14-28 February 2026

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

Random observations about Blue Ridge Birds & Nature

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North.

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

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In the past week or so we've heard Wild Turkeys gobbling from several different directions here at Hilton Pond North. There's little wonder about that, considering the above video (click on arrow to start) showing just one of the local flocks of which we're aware. "Only" ten show in the snippet, although a mosaic of views from two different trail cams showed there were at least 13. At this time of year, natural food sources like acorns, seeds, berries, and invertebrates hidden in leaves are critical, so turkeys spend much time feeding to build body condition before breeding season begins. As daylight increases in upper Ashe County in late February, some turkeys—especially toms—undergo hormonal changes ahead of breeding; this leads to increased activity and early gobbling or display behaviors even before main spring breeding begins in early March and into April.

Winter birds don't want for sustenance at Hilton Pond North, here in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Our cornucopia of black sunflower seed, cracked corn, white millet, and suet brings in hordes of migratory American Goldfinches—on some recent mornings we counted more than 100 in a flock—joined by a dozen or so Purple Finches. Most days they're joined by smaller numbers of White-throated Sparrows, Dark-eyed Juncos, Carolina Chickadees, Mourning Doves, Northern Cardinals, American Crows, Tufted Titmice, and White-breasted Nuthatches—plus Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers. Occasional Fox Sparrows and Eastern Towhees scratch in snow or earth for spilled seed, and a Carolina Wren pair probes around for insects and other unknown morsels.

Several times each day this idyllic scene of birds filling their crops with food is interrupted by a frantic scattering of the assembled multitude. Sometimes it happens when our avian friends see us make a sudden movement through our office window, or when a branch snaps in nearby woods, or when a contingent of noisy Blue Jays barrels in from nearby woods. Sometimes the birds' sudden departure occurs without obvious cause, but perhaps an especially jumpy individual having a nervous moment. Upon occasion the flock understandably goes helter-skelter when a hungry hawk zips through the feeding station, sharp talons extended, piercing red (or yellow) eyes fixed on fleeing prey.

More often than not the raptor, scarcely larger than a jay, is a "little blue darter," colloquially named for its slate-gray dorsum and an ability to dart through the underbrush in pursuit of some hapless sparrow. Such an epithet would apply only to adults, for in this predator, better known as Sharp-shinned Hawk, Accipiter striatus (above), immature birds are brown-backed, not blue.

"Big blue darter," by the way, would refer to the similar-looking and somewhat larger Cooper's Hawk—formerly Accipter cooperi and now Astur cooperi, having been shifted from its former genus due to DNA studies showing a closer relationship to the hulking Northern Goshawk, Astur gentilis. No more can we lump these three as "accipiters"; technically, they're "accipitrine hawks." (In this photo essay we're not going to get into anatomical differences or similarities between sharpies and Cooper's. During winter months Facebook is dominated by arguments about whether any given photo depicts one or the other of these two hawks! That and "Is it a House Finch or a Purple Finch?)

On warmer winter days (above 40°F) when we're running mist nets to catch birds for banding, we view any scattering of the flock with mixed feelings. It's nice to catch a lot of birds at once, but extracting them safely takes time. The best outcome is that in addition to snaring a bunch of songbirds we also capture the raptor that scared them in the first place, which is what happened on 16 February 2026 when we simultaneously netted 14 goldfinches AND the Sharp-shinned Hawk pictured on this page.

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

Three images above tell us a great deal about the sharpie we caught. Through the middle profile photo one gets a feel for the small size of the bird, using our hand and wrist band as reference. It really was jay-sized, suggesting male—his gender borne out by a wing chord measure of 170mm. Among sharp-shins, male wings come in at 155-178mm, while females are up to 25-30% larger at 186-210, and with no overlap between genders. There's also no overlap for mass, with females weighing 180-260g and males 155-178mm—the latter about the same as for Mourning Dove weights. Our little male tipped the scale at 175g.

The profile photo also shows mixed brown juvenal feathers and gray "adult" feathers in wing and back. This info—along with the full-frontal photo at page top—reveals our sharpie didn’t hatch in 2025. A young bird from last summer would still have vertical brown streaking rather than the rusty horizontal barring of the somewhat older bird shown here.

A third clue about the hawk's age comes in the mug shot just above. In sharpies, fledglings have a bright yellow eye that, over time, transitions through orange to a deep red in full adults. The photo reveal an orange iris with yellow rim, a reliable sign this individual most have hatched not in 2025 but the year before. Using bander terminology, in February 2026 this is now a "third-year" bird. (In common parlance, he's a "teenager.")

The tail on our now-banded Sharp-shinned Hawk was further evidence the bird was not a fully mature adult, which would have much greater contrast between lighter and darker tail bands. In addition, most of the individual tail feathers (rectrices, singular is rectrix) were slightly pointed. In mature sharpies, the rectrices are broadly rounded or, in some cases, slightly truncated (flat-tipped). When this third-year bird molts, its rectrices will look quite different.

After netting, extracting, measuring, banding, and photographing our relatively young male sharpie on 16 February we suggested to him in a stern voice that he go elsewhere for his songbird smorgasbord. We released him unharmed and sent him on his way, but he paid no heed to our admonishment and must not have wandered far—as shown by the still image above from a video eight days later on 24 February. The photo shows a Sharp-shinned Hawk with banded left leg perched in trees above the feeding station; the raptor swooped down at a goldfinch that had just hopped into one of our ground traps. (The sharpie was unsuccessful.)

Based on plumage, eye color, and a banded left leg—most researchers band the right—we're pretty confident this was the same sharp-shin, and that we're likely stuck with him for the rest of the winter. Sharpies do breed in Ashe County NC in small numbers, but odds are this individual will depart come spring and head for someplace further north. (NOTE: A Sharp-shinned Hawk we banded at our former study site near York SC was recaptured 15 months later at Port Huron MI, about 570 air miles due north of the original capture location.)

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

ANOTHER BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: THIS TIME IT'S OUR NEW PODCAST

Following the success of our new 24/7 Nature Cam livestream via YouTube—with sound!—we're pleased to unveil another brand-new venture: A Podcast series for Hilton Pond North. The podcasts are "Deep Dive" renditions of our long-running photo essays, now called "This Week At Hilton Pond North."

After we publish each TWAHPN installment we submit it to Google's NotebookLM, through which commentators analyze our text and produce an entertaining and informative expansion of our narrative. Episodes are available through Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and other aggregators. As always, our products are FREE to you.

We've generated podcasts for all 31 previous TWAHPN installments (dummy sample at right) and also appended links to the episode for each respective blog. If you've enjoyed reading "This Week at Hilton Pond North," put on your headphones or CarPlay and give a listen during a daily commute or your next lunch break.

Hilton Pond North is your one-stop source to read, watch, and listen about nature! How many other nature organizations have a a photo- and text-rich Web site, a weekly blog, a 24/7 Nature Cam livestream, original long-term research projects (bird banding, etc.), AND regular podcasts? Not many, if any, we'll bet. Enjoy!

You can access a catalog of ALL Hilton Pond North podcasts by clicking on the Blue Jay image above.

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SECOND NOTE: Be sure to FOLLOW our podcast on Spotify or Apple Podcasts to be notified automatically when new episodes are posted.

We'd been wondering why the black sunflower seed level in a tall tube feeder had been dropping overnight at Hilton Pond North. Our suspicions of a masked bandit (alias "trash panda") were correct, as shown recently by a video early on a foggy morning (27 February 2026). This persistent, agile, and rather rotund Raccoon—an apparent female—was able to access our feeder despite double baffles on the pole. (Incidentally, the metal splint and tape fixed the towering four-foot-long tube, broken last year by a Black Bear.)

(Note: Amazing details in the video just above might be hard to see on a cell phone, so we recommend viewing on a computer screen or tablet for which all our pages are optimized.)

The more we watched this video the more intrigued we became over what was happening at this small impoundment at Hilton Pond North on the night of 26 February. Under infrared light from one of our trail cams, bright white spots appeared at various places. When we previewed this footage with a couple of readers, one said the bright dots on the pond surface were reflections of stars in the clear winter sky, but noticeable ripples in the water would have distorted a celestial view. In addition, some dots either appeared or disappeared, again ruling out stars but giving a hint as to the real cause: Dozens of Wood Frogs with eyes poking just above the water surface. Some of the dots were bigger or linear, suggesting a pair of frogs in amplexus as the smaller male clung to the back of a gravid female—waiting for her to release eggs he could fertilize with a cloud of milt.

We thought this was a really cool natural history phenomenon, but equally interesting were the two bright spots side-be-side on a shrub on the far left side of the pond. Behind the dots one can barely make out a vertical gray shape—undoubtedly the body of a nocturnal owl. Initially we thought it to be an Eastern Screech-Owl, but based on apparent size we're more inclined to say Barred Owl. Both species are known to prey on Wood Frogs, but Barred Owls are notably semi-aquatic in their hunting habits, regularly wading in shallow water to catch frogs, crayfish, and even small fish. Incidentally, in the video you may be able to hear a few Wood Frog calls; they sound like ducks quacking in the distance.