Raptor Rapture at the British School of Falconry

By Sue Gillis and Margaret Michniewicz

The talons of the great bird brushed the top of my head as she swooped out of the barn past us, enhancing the thrill of anticipation that had been buzzing in me for months.

It all started last winter when I had encountered the beautifully-carved wood sculpture of a Harris hawk at the entrance of Manchester's Equinox Inn, which captures the moment when the talons of the bird grasp the gloved fist of a falconer. The detail and the drama of the piece are so compelling, I knew I had to experience the real thing for myself.

Today was the day. We are with falconer Dawn Kelly of the British School of Falconry at the Equinox, in their century-old white barn on the edge of Hildene Meadows in Manchester.

Kelly begins our introductory lesson with a brief but thorough overview of the precise and complicated sport. Falconry refers to the art and practice of hunting with birds of prey, including hawks and eagles. Kelly deftly weaves the threads of the sports' ancient history with the logistics of precisely balancing the birds' diet and weight, describing the variety of personalities in her feathered friends, all while amiably fielding questions. Then we get to meet most of the 14 hawks, two eagles and falcon that populate the school: like horses, each has its own stall in the barn.

Elsie, a Tawny Eagle in her full glory, is outside. Like an eager black lab bounding past when he spots the leash in your hand, Elsie has blown by us out of the barn with her six-foot wing span. She takes a regal spin around the sky, high, high up; but then, at Kelly's command, swoops rapidly back down from the heavens.

After indulging our excited picture-taking, Elsie is retired and Kelly chooses Ethel, a year-old Harris hawk, to conduct the next phase of our lesson. Unfortunately, we learn first-hand that birds of prey can have their own personalities and moods: something has ruffled Ethel's feathers and she persists in an incessant, loud squawking from her perch atop the barn roof. We share a laugh as Kelly decides to move on from the immature bird's tantrum. Kelly sends Ethel back to her roost in the barn and brings out the handsome, more mature ten-year-old, Billings.

Come Fly with Me

Billings flies ahead to a perch situated in the meadow, and though he appears keenly aware of every movement in the surrounding area (Harris hawks can spot a mouse move at over a quarter mile away), he waits patiently as Kelly fits my left arm with a leather falconry glove (complete falconry gear also includes a Barbour jacket and boots), and displays treats to entice a hungry raptor. "We haven't told the FedEx guy what it is he delivers to us every week," Kelly grins mischievously.

When ready, I will raise my left arm up and Billings, awaiting this signal, will swoop down from his perch onto my clenched fist to receive his treat - at which time Kelly will quickly step in and secure the leather leash around his ankle, connecting the bird to me. To be a true falconer, you have to master this trick of rapid dexterity yourself - fortunately, visitors to the school have guides like Kelly to perform the falconry knot tying. When it's time, she will again step in to release the knot so that the raptor can lift off again to return to his perch.

Okay, yes, I'm ready… I think! I still can't fathom how I'm actually going to handle a bird this size on my fist. I look up to the perch and am rattled to find the predator staring fixedly back at me, expectantly.

Tentatively, I slowly raise up my left arm… Like a flash, Billings leaps from his post, anything but tentative, and for just a moment seems suspended in mid-flight, as my breath catches with thrill at the beauty and grace of the hawk.

Suddenly, here he is - razor-sharp beak a matter of inches from my face! I stand, frozen in place, awed and stunned by the fierce beauty of the creature.

He rapidly gobbles the meat which is, of course, the great motivator here. I'm surprised at how light he feels, but his grandeur magnifies the impression of his size. He remains on my fist, with intense eye contact and an awesome intimacy; woman and bird; so intoxicatingly powerful. Finally shaking off my thrilled paralysis, I signal for Billings to lift off and return to his perch again - we repeat the sequence several times more, the great bird graciously coming back to my fist, peering eye to eye in my astonished face.

It is an unforgettable experience.

Falconry Takes Flight

The ancient tradition of falconry originated in China circa 2000 B.C.E. Though it is generally referred to as the oldest field sport in the world, it developed as a method to kill game, thereby providing an important food source. By the ninth century, falconry had spread to the British Isles, evolving into a noble sport and art of royalty and the wealthy. Every king, and the kings' sons, flew birds of prey.

Many years later, a little girl named Emma was born who would bring the art of falconry to faraway lands, for all to enjoy.

Flying hawks since she was eight years old, Emma founded the British School of Falconry (BSF) in 1982 with her husband, Steve Ford. It was the first school in the world dedicated to teaching the sport. Ten years later, they opened the school at the celebrated Gleneagles Hotel in Scotland - and in 1995, an American location was established at The Equinox in Manchester, Vermont. The Fords reside in Scotland but travel regularly to Manchester to work with their staff of professional falconers.

Becoming a master falconer takes many years, and even then it is rare that one will be master of more than one species of predator.

There are 5,000 active falconers in the United States, 14 in Vermont - of which only three are women, including BSF's Dawn Kelly. Kelly earned a B.S. in Veterinary Technology. While volunteering at Tufts University School of Veterinary Medicine Wildlife Clinic in the early 1990s, Kelly met a woman falconer there and was intrigued by the art, but it was not until several years later, having become the head vet tech at Tufts Wildlife Clinic, that she could devote the time and resources to her two-year apprenticeship in falconry. In 2001 she took her written exam and her field trial, in which she demonstrated to a State Fish & Wildlife officer that she could hunt with her Red-tailed hawk, attaining status as a general falconer. "I went through a divorce soon after that and was looking for something different to do," recalls Kelly. In 2004 she saw an ad in a falconry magazine for the BSF, and successfully applied for the job.

"What I love most about my job is that I can share my passion for birds of prey with others who may not otherwise get the chance to handle such a magnificent animal," Kelly says. "I never get tired of a hawk coming back to the glove. It still feels like magic to me."