As a birdwatcher I delight in getting even the briefest glance at a favorite species as it goes about its business of living, but these encounters are quick snapshots. All too often the window into their world is murky, if not altogether hidden, unless I am prepared to spend large amounts of time quietly and patiently observing from a previously determined, advantageous position. This I have not been able to do for quiet some time.

However, earlier this spring I got lucky. Over the course of two weeks I was allowed glimpses into the private lives of two secretive forest-dwelling raptors – just by being in the right place at the right time.

One warm, sunny, late afternoon I was planting my flower beds when I heard this high-pitched, raspy squealing. At first I didn’t really pay it any attention, believing it to be the vocalization of our resident yellow-bellied sapsuckers. After several seconds I realized the calls had a different quality, and originated from an area not usually frequented by these woodpeckers.

As I peered at the dead lower branches of a white pine tree, I was astonished to see two broad-winged hawks in the act of mating.

After a few seconds, the male flew away and the female remained on her perch, ruffling her feathers and preening. She then gave the high-pitched “si-geeeeee,” whistle that is so characteristic of the species. Eventually she, too, flew out of sight in the same direction as the male had, to an eastern corner of the property.

The second time I saw the hawks was during a food transfer. Now I realized it was the female making the high-pitched, raspy squealing call, this time in response to the male’s arrival with food. He landed on the same pine branch she occupied, then flew to a nearby tree. She took the prey – a small snake – to the flat top of a telephone pole, which stood amid a thin stand of trees. She then proceeded to skin and devour it, after which she flew back to her pine tree perch. I watched her wipe her beak along the side of the branch, ruffle her feathers, and begin preening. Again, when she was through with her toilet she flew away to that eastern spot on the property.

I caught three more food transfers over the next several days. The telephone pole was again pressed into service as a dining table; the flat and level top was an ideal surface upon which to position or skin prey prior to eating. Twice I was able to identify the prey – a small mouse or vole, which is typical fare for broad-winged hawks, along with small reptiles, amphibians, insects and, less frequently, birds.

These raptors are not as specialized for chasing down birds on the wing as are Cooper’s hawks, sharp-shinned hawks, and goshawks. The latter are known as accipiters and have adaptations that give them superior speed and maneuverability through dense forest canopy: long tails and relatively short, rounded wings. Broad-winged hawks, on the other hand, are known as buteos, and have relatively short tails and longer wings that are specialized for soaring. They are sit-and-wait predators that use a short burst of speed to surprise prey out in the open.

The next time I saw one of the birds, I believe it was the female. I watched her grasp a small twig in her beak and break it free from its branch; she then transferred it from her beak to her foot and back again several times, as if hefting it for size, weight, and suitability. She then flew off with it to the same spot to which I had seen her and her mate disappear before.

I wasn’t able to determine where the hawks had built their nest before I moved away from this location, but it is my hope that they are now successfully raising a family. Regardless, I felt privileged to have witnessed this very important part of their life cycle.

BDN bird columnist Chris Corio can be reached at bdnsports@bangordailynews.net