It is a Tuesday afternoon in Ithaca, and thousands of people are collectively holding their breath because a bird just landed on a light pole. Not just any bird. We are talking about the Cornell University red tailed hawk pair, a duo that has arguably more dedicated fans than most minor league sports teams. If you’ve spent any time on the Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s live cams, you know the vibe. It is high drama, nature in its rawest form, and occasionally, a bit of a tear-jerker.
Bird watching used to be a quiet, solitary hobby. Now? It’s a digital community.
People think they know Big Red and Arthur—the legendary pair—but there is a lot of nuance to their lives that doesn't make it into the highlight reels. Watching a 24/7 stream changes your perspective on what it means to survive in the Finger Lakes region of New York. It isn't all majestic soaring. Honestly, it’s a lot of waiting around in the rain, defending a nest from persistent crows, and the brutal reality of the food chain.
The Legacy of Big Red and the Changing Guard
Big Red is an icon. Named after the university’s colors, she first appeared around 2012 and basically redefined what we know about urban-adjacent hawk behavior. She was massive. Formidable. She sat on those high-perch camera spots above the athletic fields like she owned the entire Ivy League.
For years, she and her mate Ezra were the "it" couple of the ornithology world. When Ezra passed away in 2017 due to an injury, the community actually mourned. It sounds strange if you aren't into birds, but when you watch a creature raise its young for years, you get attached. You see the personality.
Then came Arthur.
Arthur was younger, a bit smaller, and had to prove himself. He did. Watching him learn to provide for Big Red and the "eyas" (the fancy word for hawk chicks) was a masterclass in avian instinct. But life for a Cornell University red tailed hawk is precarious. As of recent years, we’ve seen shifts in the nesting site and the players involved. Nature doesn't stand still. Younger hawks are always looking for territory, and the "real estate" around the Cornell campus is prime. It’s near the compost piles—which means rats—and the open fields—which means squirrels. It is a hawk buffet.
Why This Specific Nest Captured the World
Most people wonder why this specific nest became the gold standard for bird cams. Part of it is the tech. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology doesn't just stick a GoPro on a tree. They use high-end, infrared, weather-resistant gear that lets you see the individual feathers on a hawk’s back during a blizzard.
But the real reason is the location.
The hawks chose to nest on light poles overlooking the aluminum track and soccer fields. It’s a bizarre juxtaposition. You have elite athletes sprinting below and a prehistoric predator tearing apart a rabbit thirty feet above them. It’s a reminder that we live in their world, not the other way around.
The Survival Math
Life is hard for these birds. People get very upset when they see a chick that isn't as strong as the others, or when a parent brings in a "cute" prey item like a chipmunk. But the biology is fascinating. A female red-tailed hawk is significantly larger than the male—this is called sexual dimorphism. It’s practical. She needs the bulk to stay on the eggs and protect the nest, while the male needs to be a fast, agile hunter to bring home the bacon. Or, in this case, the vole.
- Incubation period: Roughly 28 to 35 days of sitting through freezing rain.
- Diet: 80% rodents, but they aren’t picky. They will take snakes, other birds, and the occasional unlucky toad.
- Fledging: Usually happens around 45 to 50 days after hatching. This is the high-anxiety window for viewers.
The "fledge" is when the chicks jump off the nest for the first time. It is clumsy. It’s terrifying. Sometimes they end up on the ground and have to hop-flap their way to a low branch while the ground crew (volunteer humans) keeps an eye out for off-leash dogs or cars.
The Ethical Dilemma of the Live Cam
There is a big debate in the birding community about "intervention." What happens if a chick gets sick? What if a hawk is injured by a man-made object?
The Cornell Lab generally sticks to a "hands-off" policy. They are scientists. Their goal is to observe natural history, not to run a pet sanctuary. This is tough for the audience to swallow. When you’re watching a Cornell University red tailed hawk struggle, the chat rooms go wild with people demanding someone "do something."
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But the Lab's stance is grounded in reality. These birds have been doing this for millions of years. Every time a human interferes, it risks habituating the bird or disrupting the natural selection that keeps the species strong. However, they do step in for man-made issues. If a hawk is tangled in fishing line or hit by a car, they work with the Cornell Wildlife Health Center. It’s a delicate balance. You want to save the individual, but you have to respect the species.
What Most People Get Wrong About Red-Tails
You know that high-pitched, screaming "Kee-eee-arr" sound you hear in every Hollywood movie when an eagle is on screen? That’s actually a red-tailed hawk. Bald eagles actually sound kind of wimpy—sort of a high-pitched whistling giggle. Sound editors use the red-tail's voice because it sounds "tougher."
Also, they aren't just "big hawks." They are incredibly intelligent. They recognize individual humans. The hawks at Cornell likely recognize the researchers who have banded them over the years. They know the schedule of the campus. They know when the crowds at the stadium are going to be loud and when the quietest times to hunt are.
Identifying the Stars
If you're looking at the cam and trying to figure out who is who:
- Look at the size. The female is the "tank." She’s broader and heavier.
- Check the "Belly Band." Most red-tails have a streak of dark feathers across their white chest. Big Red’s was always very distinct and dark.
- The Eyes. Young hawks have pale, yellowish eyes. As they age, their eyes turn a deep, chocolate brown. If you see a hawk with piercing yellow eyes, that’s a youngster—a "juvenile"—who hasn't quite reached adulthood yet.
The Infrastructure of a Hawk's Life
The Cornell campus is basically a custom-built hawk habitat. The tall buildings provide "cliffs" for updrafts, making it easy to soar without burning much energy. The Tower Road area is a wind tunnel that they use like a highway.
Watching the Cornell University red tailed hawk pair navigate the urban environment is a lesson in adaptation. They use the stadium lights as vantage points. They use the heat rising from the buildings to stay warm. It’s a symbiotic relationship that the university has embraced. They’ve even modified some of the lighting and glass on campus to be more "bird-friendly" because of the publicity these hawks brought to the issue of bird strikes.
How to Follow the Story Properly
If you're just jumping in, don't just watch the video. Read the "Bird Cams" blog. The moderators there are actual experts—ornithologists and veteran observers who can explain why a bird is "panting" (it’s called gular fluttering and it’s how they cool down) or why they are standing on one leg (it’s to conserve heat).
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The community around these hawks is global. You'll see people commenting from Australia at 3:00 AM their time just to watch the sunrise over Ithaca. It’s a weirdly calming thing to have on your second monitor while you work. It grounds you.
Essential Steps for New Hawk Watchers
- Learn the terminology. If you call a hawk an "eagle," the chat will politely (or not so politely) correct you. Learn the difference between a "stoop" (a high-speed dive) and "kettling" (circling in a thermal).
- Don't get too attached to the prey. It’s a "circle of life" situation. If the hawks don't eat the squirrels, the hawks don't exist. It’s better to appreciate the skill of the hunt than to mourn the rodent.
- Check the archives. The Cornell Lab keeps "best of" clips. If you missed the first flight of the season, it’s usually clipped and posted within an hour.
- Support local conservation. The best way to "help" the Cornell hawks isn't by sending them food (please don't do that); it’s by supporting local land trusts and avoiding the use of rodenticides.
- Watch for the "mantling." This is when a hawk spreads its wings over its food to hide it from others. It’s one of the coolest behaviors to see up close.
The Cornell University red tailed hawk saga is an ongoing reality show with no script and very high stakes. It teaches us about patience and the brutal, beautiful efficiency of nature. Whether you're a student walking across the quad or a viewer in a different hemisphere, these birds offer a rare, unfiltered look at a life lived entirely in the present moment. They don't worry about the future; they just watch the wind and wait for the right moment to strike.
Next Steps for Enthusiasts:
To truly engage with the Cornell hawk community, start by visiting the Cornell Lab Bird Cams website during the nesting season (typically March through July). Download a bird identification app like Merlin—which was actually developed at Cornell—to identify the other species that frequently harass the hawks, like blue jays and crows. Finally, check your local area for "raptor hacks"; even if you aren't in Ithaca, there is a high probability a red-tailed hawk is nesting on a cell tower or tall tree within five miles of your home right now.