By Dr. Howard Whiteman
Murray State University
Walking through a parking lot toward my car one evening, I heard an unmistakable ‘peent’ sound coming from the sky. As I strained to see into the night, I finally spotted the bird much higher than its call would have suggested. There it was, with bat-like wings, searching the night sky for insects: a nighthawk.
Nighthawks are aptly named in one way: they are predatory, like hawks. However, they are not hawks at all, and are rather a member of the “nightjar” family, a group of nocturnal birds that include the extremely vocal whip-poor-will and chuck-will’s widow, two birds whose names are a perfect description of their call. Unlike their cousins and their name, however, nighthawks don’t hunt at night but rather spend most of their time feeding at dusk and dawn.
Nighthawks are about nine inches long with a 21” wingspan, halfway between a robin and crow in size. Their long, pointed wings and looping flight sometimes make them appear bat-like. They have very short bills and large heads, and large eyes for seeing at night. They are camouflaged in gray, white, and black, but have a distinctive white stripe on each wing — if you can see it.
Unlike the forest edge habitats preferred by their vocal cousins, nighthawks are very comfortable in the city. Growing up in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, they have always reminded me of summer nights, as I would see and hear nighthawks flying near city buildings or strip malls.
I learned there was a reason for their abundance near such buildings, because they will nest on flat roofs. “Nest” is a stretch however, as they don’t create a true nest; females just lay two eggs on the roof, and brood the eggs without any help from dried leaves or sticks.
Before nesting, there is courtship. Male nighthawks court females by doing a free-fall dive through the air, and stopping abruptly to make a “boom” sound with his wings. You can often hear and watch this display during summer evenings.
Nighthawks are unusual in other ways. They have two tiny feet which don’t provide them much support, so they perch awkwardly. They can flap one wing at a time, unlike most other birds, which may aid them in their acrobatic maneuvers. Finally, they have specialized feathers on each side of their bill that act as sensors for flying insects, allowing them to efficiently snap up prey while moving at high speeds.
During a recent trip to the Rockies, I realized for the first time that nighthawks have an expansive distribution throughout North America. Growing up watching them in the suburbs, it was odd to see them living and nesting on rock outcrops, but they were much more visible in this environment, and would stop and stare at us from the ground as we passed by. I was also amazed that their eyes, when struck by the glare of our headlamps, glowed red, giving them an almost demonic appearance.
I am sure that their insect prey think they are demons. Like bats, nighthawks consume thousands of insects each night, including mosquitos and agricultural pests. Having one of the longest migration routes of any North American bird, they are providing these ecosystem services to us as well as to the people of South America, where they spend their winters.
Although nighthawk populations have declined in recent decades, their ability to adapt to the human matrix may provide some advantage, much like it has for white-tailed deer, coyotes, and other species which now frequent our cities. They are a reminder that, at least for some species, even shopping malls are adequate, if not natural, habitat. The evening “peent” of the nigththawk as it searches for prey above our parking lots also reminds us that nature still exists, even in our cities, and is patiently waiting for us to be better stewards of the environment.
If you get a chance this week and are near an area with good nighthawk nesting habit, which could be a city street, a flat-roofed strip mall, or a rock outcrop, take a moment and look to the sky. Listen for the distinctive “peent” sound of foraging nighthawks, or the booming of a plummeting male, or just look for an oversized “bat” flying by. If you have patience, you might just experience the magic of this unusual bird, and perhaps enjoy it so much you might start looking, and listening, for them every night.
Dr. Howard Whiteman holds the Commonwealth Endowed Chair of Environmental Studies at Murray State University where he is director of the Watershed Studies Institute and a professor in the department of Biological Sciences.