As the April afternoon sun jabs through heavy clouds, I walk out my driveway and listen for bird sounds. A soft, prolonged “keeeerrrrr” wafts down from the heavens. Squinting into the blinding light, I spy a large, red-tailed hawk floating on a light breeze. Slight maneuvering of the tail guides the hawk in a wide circle as it soars well above the alder trees. I wonder where this red-tail is nesting.

The sight reminds me of a recent trip to New York City to visit family and to pay homage to the most famous red-tailed hawk in the world, Pale Male. I first read about Pale Male more than 10 years ago in the delightful book “Red-tails in Love” by Marie Winn. In her book Winn details the astonishing variety of bird species that live in New York’s Central Park and especially a very pale-colored, male red-tailed hawk.

Pale Male was first sighted in Central Park in 1991. After attempting to nest is a tree, he moved east across Fifth Avenue and set up housekeeping on a high ledge of a condominium facing the park. The ledge offered nesting habitat comparable to the rocky ledges this species selects in mountainous areas. An abundance of city pigeons and squirrels provided easy pickings for mealtime. In 1995 Male Pale and his mate “Chocolate” successfully fledged their first young.

During the following 10 years, Pale Male helped produce 26 offspring, all from the same ledge. Through the years Pale Male has had four mates. The present is called Lola.

However, that success was threatened in late 2004 when the ruling board of the condo contracted to have the nest of Pale Male and Lola removed along with the spiked pigeon guard that had allowed the nest to remain secure to the ledge. Apparently, the building’s inhabitants objected to binoculars being pointed in their direction and needing to wash their windows frequently.

As news of the nest removal spread, New York City Audubon Society members and Pale Male fans from around the world, myself included, became outraged. Thousands of hawk supporters stopped by the park for a look at the birds and the empty ledge. For weeks the condo board squared off against wildlife lovers over the fate of the red-tails’ nest. Finally, the condominium owners backed down and re-installed the spiked pigeon guard.

The next morning Pale Male and Lola soared above Central Park and before nightfall the first stick of the new nest was firmly in place. They continued to rebuild the nest and on March 9 the season’s first egg was laid, right on schedule.

When I arrived on March 24, the temperature hovered in the low 40s; slushy snow from the previous day’s storm lingered along the edges of Central Park paths. At 3 p.m. I rounded the end of Sailboat Pond and joined the gathering of a half-dozen Pale Male watchers. They chatted about the cold weather, recorded the hawks’ actions, answered questions from passers-by and distributed information.

Two bird-watching telescopes donated by local businesses pointed east toward the new nest. As I peered through the lenses, Lola sat calmly with her head and tail clearly visible above the mound of branches. Then I settled on a park bench, wrapped my wool scarf closely around my neck and waited for hawk action. I also listened to the locals describe the day’s activity.

“She just finished turning the eggs,” announced one bird-watcher.

“Been sitting on them about two weeks,” said another.

During this conversation Pale Male perched several buildings to the north of the onlookers on the “satellite railing” so-named because the top of the building held three communication disks.

“About noon he brought a pigeon to the drop-off spot, a ledge to the south,” the conversation went.

“She left the nest to pick it up, stayed on the feeding ledge about an hour.”

At that moment Pale Male flapped off his perch, soared in a lazy circle over our heads and headed south.

“Hawk up!,” someone shouted.

“It’s the male.”

“Heading for the ledge.”

“No gifts this time.”

Pale Male landed on the food-drop ledge. After only a brief pause he lifted off again and flew to the nest where he interacted with Lola. Evidently she was satisfied with the pigeon he had caught for her a couple hours earlier, so he took off again soaring in a wide circle over our heads.

Pale Male disappeared to the north, came back, then settled on the satellite railing. So I decided to walk on, pleased to observe firsthand that Pale Male and Lola are again happily nesting in one of the most densely populated cities in the world.

It is my hope that we can continue to carve out and preserve space for wildlife in our human-dominated habitats. Our lives are enriched when we choose to coexist with nature.

As I left the park, the New York City sounds muffled any hawk vocalizations. But I imagined the soft, prolonged “keeeeeerrr” of a red-tail wafting down from on high.

Frances Wood is the author of “Brushed by Feathers: A Year of Bird-watching in the West” available in local bookstores. She can be reached at wood@whidbey.com.