Morning turns out to be a great time to watch the young hawks exploring after their breakfast.

Lifting off the branch sends a rain of particles in the opposite direction.

Click the image for a more detailed view.

They are catching on fast and seem much more comfortable in the air after only a few days.

Even their landings are calmer and more calculated (when they aren't distracted).

Little Boy is at ease on the ground. His brother stays in the trees and bides his time.

Investigating every little thing.

This is one way (albeit unfortunate) to learn about the perils of dog poo.

The tree-bound hawk tests the waters by launching a sneak attack on his distracted sibling.

It really does seem like playing - though I sense it is more of a self-guided orientation.

Little Boy heads out to explore the baths. This was the first time I'd seen him cross the road.

The first lesson about crossing the street was quickly taught by the red-winged disciplinarians that call the bath house ruins home.

Even the water afforded no escape from the blackbirds which were unrelenting. The hawk seemed to be confused about what to do and where to go. It eventually was forced into the ground twice, landing and then trying to wait out the Red-wings.

With an exasperated cry, he returns to the park across the street, still being tracked by a determined escort.