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Falconer Rebecca K. O’Connor hunts with her red-tailed hawk Dio in Beaumont in February 2025. (Courtesy of Rivers & Lands Conservancy)
Falconer Rebecca K. O’Connor hunts with her red-tailed hawk Dio in Beaumont in February 2025. (Courtesy of Rivers & Lands Conservancy)
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By Rebecca K. O’Connor | Contributing Columnist

On Nov. 2, I trapped a juvenile red-tailed hawk and began the process of training. He will likely be returned to the wild after a year or two of guaranteed food, health benefits, and company housing, but he became my partner for the falconry season.

As a falconer, I have a hunting license along with my falconry license and adhere to hunting seasons just like any other hunter. However, my red-tailed hawk, “Ronnie James Dio,” already knew how to hunt rabbits, regulations or not. By the end of December, we had become fast friends, and I was able to set him loose to fly my favorite open spaces while I labored to make a rabbit appear for him. Falconry is my passion, and I think, or at least hope, it is what has kept me a decent human being.

Falconer Rebecca K. O'Connor trains her red-tailed hawk Dio in Banning in December 2024. (Courtesy of Rivers & Lands Conservancy)
Falconer Rebecca K. O’Connor trains her red-tailed hawk Dio in Banning in December 2024. (Courtesy of Rivers & Lands Conservancy)

Those hours I spend in the field completely immersed in the habitat of our region, its migrations, population cycles, and its eternal perils to both prey and predator are the basis for my gratitude for living. There is no room to worry about my taxes when I’m worried if that pack of coyotes can get to my hawk and his rabbit before I can or if the mated pair of adult red-tailed hawks might just kill him for invading their territory. It’s immersive and as rich in its unexpected gifts and beauty as it is in its dangers. Having this perspective balances me and I know that it is not for everyone, but I also know I’m not the only one who needs some version of this immersion in nature.

This perspective is what has driven my 20-year career in fundraising for conservation. Being a fundraiser is a lot like being a falconer, I think. I’ve read fundraisers described as “boundary expanders.” We are the spokesperson for the vision and ethics of our organization as the person who crafts and shares the story of our mission. We are also the people who present the views, values, and hopes of our organization’s supporters to the Board of Directors. We walk between worlds and try to figure out how to merge both into a meaningful outcome for all.

Dio, a juvenile red-tailed hawk and hunting partner of falconer Rebecca K. O'Connor, is seen in January 2025 in Beaumont. (Courtesy of Rivers & Lands Conservancy)
Dio, a juvenile red-tailed hawk and hunting partner of falconer Rebecca K. O’Connor, is seen in January 2025 in Beaumont. (Courtesy of Rivers & Lands Conservancy)

I am too civilized to live my life by the unforgiving rules of nature, but I am willing to abide by nature’s sometimes heart-breaking rulings so that I can be immersed in its harsh beauty and the awe of its magical moments. I do not know how civilization will shake out, but I do know that nature will find a way and I find comfort in being a part of it.

My experience in nature has created a philanthropic focus in my personal philosophy that is anchored in preserving all that I have to lose. I have lost so many places in the Inland Empire where I used to hunt with my hawks. How do we save it? Perhaps we need to stop talking about why the future needs us to save it, and instead for the sake of our supporters, start talking about how we make the world a better place today.

I imagine wild places unmarred by the plastic bags, bottles, and tires that pull me straight back into civilization. Finding litter is disappointing certainly, but more than this, it reminds me that I haven’t gone grocery shopping in two weeks, and I should have changed the oil in my truck two weeks before that. Nature is where I try to forget the mundane responsibilities of a civilized society. For this reason, I am deeply grateful to Rivers & Lands Conservancy volunteers who remove thousands of pounds of trash annually along the Santa Ana River trails.

I imagine pristine pocket gardens of California native plants in our communities where we can all escape in a microcosm of nature for a while. These are the places where we can all discover what I seek when I hunt with my hawks. Rivers & Lands Conservancy has six of these gardens in the city of Riverside and I hope we will create more in other cities. I imagine a world where a little girl with a wild imagination and penchant for adventure can discover a natural world she must protect, just as I did.

My falconry season ended in March and Dio did well, although the rabbits did better. To be honest, I also love it when the rabbit gets away. The hawk still gets fed, we all survive, and I get to witness interactions that few get to experience. Maybe I am a boundary expander. I hope so, because there is a better world, and we can craft it today.

Rivers & Lands Conservancy connects our community to natural, wild, and open spaces of Southern California through land conservation, stewardship, and education.

Rebecca K. O’Connor is the co-executive director of Rivers & Lands Conservancy, has an MFA in creative writing and writing for the performing arts from UC Riverside and is the author of several books on the natural world.

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