First pip

As of tonight, the first pip — sort of a dimple in the egg where the chick is beginning to push its way out — has appeared in one of the Cornell red-tailed hawks’ eggs.

I thought of Rufous Redtail, an old favorite I reviewed awhile back. In honor of the first possible hatchling, I wanted to share the first few paragraphs of this great story:

Rufous was a little redtail hawk whose life started where the mountains are covered with forests, the roads are rough, and villages are small and far apart. His home was a huge nest high up in a pine tree that towered above all the others around it.

“I’ve got to get out of here. This little world is too small for me,” was the first thing he could ever remember thinking.

With that he kicked and pressed, and struggled and pushed with all his might and main. Finally he lost his temper and started pecking, rat, tat, tat, at whatever it was that bound him in so tightly.

I’ve got to get out of here,” he kept repeating as he pecked angrily at the boundary of his little world, where for twenty eight long, quiet days he had been comfortable and warm. “I don’t like it in here any longer. It’s much too small a place for a big fellow like me.”

Suddenly something happened. With a particularly hard peck he had pierced the smooth, hard boundaries of the world, and through a tiny jagged hole a dazzling light rushed in. Rufous’ eyes were tightly closed, but even so he could see the bright light. It was very unpleasant. Rufous didn’t like it at all. He stopped trying to get out and rested quietly for a long time, wishing the light would go away. But it was too late. For there was the tiny hole, and there was the bright light, and no matter how hard Rufous wished he couldn’t get rid of them.

After a long rest Rufous felt dreadfully cramped again, so he started to struggle once more. Rat, tat, tat; rat, tat, tat he pecked. Then he gave a kick, a push, and a slight turn, and then rat, tat, tat, again. Slowly he turned around from right to left in his wee world. Always in the same direction. More and more light came through the crack he was making, but by now Rufous was getting used to it. His eyes were still closed and he was cheeping noisily, but all that was in his mind was, “I must get out. I must get out.”

One more long rest to gather strength, then a kick, and Rufous’ world broke in half. What a surprise! With a wriggle and a wiggle, and a wiggle and a wriggle, he rid himself at last of his tight, crusty eggshell and lay all damp and limp in the bottom of the big nest. He looked as if he were dead, but his little heart was beating and he was breathing the fresh air of the wide heavens. Suddenly the world was dark again, but this time the dark was soft and warm, for his mother had returned and settled over him, covering him with her fluffy breast feathers. (Helen Garrett, Rufous Redtail)

Good luck, little hawk!