HAWK MOUNTAIN

KEMPTON, Pa. (AP) — Peering through binoculars, Arlene Koch spies something tiny and dark on the horizon. Though it’s still a few miles away and difficult to see even with magnification, she can identify the shadowy figure by its shape and the characteristics of its flight.

“That’s a broadwing over five,” Koch declares from her perch atop Hawk Mountain. “Now we need about 5,000 more to follow!”

Koch is a volunteer hawk counter at Hawk Mountain Sanctuary, a 2,400-acre ridgetop preserve in eastern Pennsylvania where generations have come to watch migrating hawks, eagles and falcons. Joining her this day are dozens of visitors — casual tourists and birding enthusiasts alike — hoping to catch a huge flight of broadwing hawks.

Situated along a major Appalachian flyway for migratory birds known as the Kittatinny Ridge, Hawk Mountain records an average fall migration of 18,000 to 20,000 raptors. It’s one of the best, and best-known, spots in the nation to catch these sharp-beaked birds of prey as they head to warmer climates such as Florida, Mexico and Central and South America.

Each morning from Aug. 15 through Dec. 15, volunteers such as Koch trek about a mile over rocky terrain to a famed outcropping called North Lookout. There, they identify and count the 16 species of raptor that use the Kittatinny as a kind of aerial Autobahn. Hawk Mountain has recorded the migration since its founding 75 years ago as the world’s first refuge for birds of prey, giving scientists the ability to monitor long-term health and population trends.

The tourists, meanwhile, can just sit back and enjoy the show — which they do, coming by the thousands each fall.

Despite Koch’s exhortation, a big broadwing flight would not be in the cards this day. By early evening, the official count stands at 315. (The season’s broadwing peak comes two days later, when 1,613 birds soar over North Lookout.)

Even when it’s relatively slow, though, there are wonders to behold. Two sharp-shinned hawks (“sharpies” for short) go at each other in prolonged aerial battle. A small, colorful falcon known as a kestrel streaks overhead, seemingly in a great hurry. There are a few ospreys — none clutching fish, alas — and even a bald eagle.

The afternoon’s highlight: a “kettle” or flock of 38 broadwings, spiraling ever-higher in a pocket of warm air called a thermal before peeling off, one by one, to coast down the ridge. Koch takes note of each bird, furiously clicking her hand-held counter. Eventually, the hawks are overhead, and several dozen necks crane in unison to watch them. They disappear over the treeline.

Two other species that migrate over Hawk Mountain in large numbers — sharp-shinned and red-tailed hawks — are best-seen in early October and early November, respectively. Early November also marks the arrival of small numbers of golden eagles. The peak autumn flight of bald eagles is in early September.

You don’t have to be an expert bird-watcher to enjoy Hawk Mountain, though. Volunteers are happy to answer questions. Koch and her counting partner, Rudy Keller, keep up a running commentary throughout the day.