Also known as just the red-tail, this is the most widespread raptor in North America. Unlike forest specialists or wetland hunters, it’s a versatile predator—built for soaring over open country, patrolling fields and highways, and thriving in nearly every landscape in North America.
- Length: 18–26 inches (45–65 cm)
- Wingspan: 3.5–4.5 feet (110–140 cm)
- Range: Found from Alaska to Panama, Red-tailed Hawks are year-round residents in most of the continental U.S., with northern populations migrating south in winter. Their adaptability to human-altered landscapes has made them one of the most successful and widespread raptors on the continent.
What to Look For
At first glance, the Red-tailed Hawk can look like a generic big hawk — broad wings, bulky body, circling overhead. But the closer you watch, the more the details stand out. Adults carry a rich reddish-brown tail, broad and rounded, that glows like a beacon when backlit by the sun. In flight, the wings are wide and plank-like, with a short, broad tail fanned behind. The silhouette is stocky, heavy through the shoulders, built for steady soaring rather than quick twists.
One of the best field marks shows up even at a distance: dark “patagial bars” along the leading edge of the wings near the shoulder. No other common buteo in North America shows them as consistently, and once you’ve trained your eye, those marks become the quick tell. Add in the underparts — pale overall but crossed with a smudgy belly band of darker streaks — and the Red-tail’s look begins to click into place.
Juveniles can complicate things. They lack the trademark rusty tail, instead carrying a brown, banded one that can look similar to other young hawks. Their underparts are more streaked and mottled, and the crisp red flash that makes adults so obvious won’t appear until their second year. Still, the structure gives them away. Those broad, plank-like wings and that heavy, deliberate wingbeat — steady, measured, never frantic — are hallmarks of the species. Once you know them, even a distant bird circling over a field or roadside becomes unmistakable: a Red-tail, holding court in the open sky.
Behavior & Flight Style
Red-tailed Hawks are built for the long game. Watch one on a warm afternoon and you’ll see it circling in wide, unhurried arcs, riding invisible columns of rising air. They seem to own the thermals, drifting higher and higher with barely a wingbeat, scanning the open ground below for the flicker of movement. Where an osprey flaps stiffly against the wind or an eagle might stoop with raw speed, the Red-tail moves at a slower rhythm — patient, deliberate, and steady. It’s a style that makes them look effortless, as if the sky bends to their pace.
When they do flap, the difference shows. Their wingbeats are heavy, broad strokes that feel more laborious than the quick snappiness of smaller hawks. In flight, they often hold their wings in a shallow “V” — a dihedral posture that helps steady them in shifting air. That pose, wings angled upward just slightly as they soar, becomes one of the easiest ways to recognize them from a distance.
But Red-tails aren’t only sky hunters. On the ground, they turn into ambush specialists. Perched on a power pole, fence post, or lone tree at the edge of a field, they’ll sit motionless for long stretches, eyes locked on the grass below. When the moment comes, they drop in a sudden, powerful stoop, wings flaring at the last second before they slam down on a rabbit or rodent. It’s a contrast to their lazy circles overhead — the calm of patience giving way to an explosive strike.
Diet & Hunting
If the osprey is a specialist and the Golden Eagle a powerhouse, the Red-tailed Hawk is the opportunist. Few raptors show such a willingness to eat whatever the landscape offers. Small mammals are the backbone of their diet — voles, mice, rabbits, and ground squirrels make up the bulk of their meals. But the menu doesn’t stop there. Red-tails will turn on birds when the chance comes, snapping up quail, pheasants, or smaller songbirds flushed from cover. Reptiles, too, find their way into the mix; snakes and lizards are often seized and sometimes swallowed whole in the field. And when times are lean, they’ll settle for carrion, muscling in on roadkill or the leftovers from another predator’s kill.
This flexibility is one of the secrets to their success. While other raptors fade when conditions shift or prey populations crash, Red-tails adapt. A pair nesting on farmland may hunt rodents between rows of corn, while another on desert cliffs survives on lizards and jackrabbits. In suburbs and cities, they perch on lampposts and telephone poles, watching the grass medians for movement. Wherever there’s food, they find it.
The hunting style is just as varied. Some Red-tails are patient sit-and-wait predators, dropping suddenly from a pole or tree to nail prey on the ground. Others take to the sky, quartering low over fields or coursing along ridgelines until something bolts. Their attacks are rarely graceful, but they don’t need elegance when raw power does the job. That adaptability — in both diet and technique — explains why the Red-tailed Hawk has become one of the most common raptors in North America. They aren’t picky, and in the world of predators, that’s a winning strategy.
Migration & Range
Red-tailed Hawks are everywhere, but not all of them move. Populations in the northernmost ranges — Alaska, Canada, and the upper Great Plains — often migrate south when winter strips the land of prey. Birds in the lower U.S. and Mexico, by contrast, are mostly year-round residents, holding the same territories from season to season. It’s a mix of travelers and homebodies, dictated by latitude and food supply.
The spectacle comes in autumn. At hawkwatch sites across North America, thousands of Red-tails stream overhead, kettling in rising thermals alongside Broad-winged Hawks, Turkey Vultures, and other buteos. Their broad wings and heavy wingbeats make them easy to pick out in the swirling sky, and the sheer numbers make clear just how widespread they are.
But migration isn’t required to see one. Year-round, Red-tailed Hawks are the most common raptor in the U.S. — circling above prairie grasslands, perched along desert highways, or even gliding over suburban shopping centers. Their adaptability to both wild and human-shaped landscapes has given them a foothold almost everywhere, from remote mountain ridges to city parking lots. If you live in North America, chances are you share your daily sky with a Red-tail.
Nesting & Life Cycle
Red-tailed Hawks don’t settle for subtle nests. Their stick platforms are built high in the open — wedged into tall trees, perched on cliff ledges, or increasingly on human-made structures like powerline towers. Each season, the pair adds new material, weaving in bark, greenery, and softer linings until the structure becomes a bulky, weathered monument reused year after year. Some sites take on a sense of permanence, carrying the history of generations of Red-tails that returned each spring.
Pairs are monogamous and defend their territories with intensity. Courtship is an aerial display that leaves no doubt about their bond or their claim to the sky: circling high, then locking talons and spiraling downward together before breaking apart in a controlled freefall. These flights are as much about reinforcing partnership as they are about warding off rivals.
When breeding begins, the female lays between one and five eggs. Incubation lasts about a month, with the female handling most of the sitting while the male provides food. Once the chicks hatch, they grow quickly, their fluffy down giving way to mottled juvenile feathers within weeks. By six weeks, they’re testing wings at the nest edge, and soon after, they make their first uncertain flights. But independence doesn’t come immediately. Young Red-tails often remain near the nest, their sharp begging calls echoing through the territory as they shadow their parents. Even after they can fly, they rely on adults to deliver meals until hunting skills sharpen and the next generation claims the skies for itself.
Sounds
That scream. Even if you’ve never stood under a Red-tailed Hawk, you’ve almost certainly heard its voice. A harsh, descending “KEEEeer,” drawn out and echoing, it’s become the soundtrack of wilderness itself — so iconic that Hollywood steals it constantly, dubbing it over Bald Eagles in films and commercials. The call carries far, a broadcast of territory and presence that leaves no mistaking who owns the airspace above.
Other vocalizations exist — sharp whistles, raspy notes, and chatter between mates or from begging juveniles — but none define the species like that scream. It’s dramatic, piercing, and unforgettable, a sound that can freeze a meadow into silence. Once you know it, you’ll start to pick it out everywhere: drifting over desert canyons, slicing through city parks, or echoing off the edge of a mountain ridge. For Red-tailed Hawks, the voice is part of the power. Their shape is unmistakable in the sky, but their call makes sure you don’t even need to see them to know they’re there.
Conservation
If there’s one raptor that shows how adaptability equals survival, it’s the Red-tailed Hawk. While many birds of prey have faced population crashes from pesticides, persecution, or habitat loss, Red-tails have only spread wider. Their numbers are stable or increasing across North America, thriving in deserts, mountains, farmland, and even the edges of suburbs and cities. They’ve learned to use our landscapes to their advantage, turning utility poles into hunting perches and roadside medians into feeding grounds.
Variation adds to their story. With more than 14 recognized subspecies, Red-tailed Hawks range from the pale “Krider’s” of the northern plains to the rufous and nearly black forms of the Southwest and Mexico. This wide spectrum of plumage can make them a challenge for birders — sometimes even looking like entirely different species — but it’s part of what makes them so fascinating to study.
Cool fact: their eyesight is estimated to be about eight times sharper than ours. From hundreds of feet in the air, a Red-tail can spot the twitch of a mouse in tall grass — a reminder that the power of this common hawk isn’t just in its wings, but in its eyes.
One of their most familiar haunts is the roadside. When you spot a Red-tail perched on a highway pole or fencepost, it’s not just enjoying the view. Roadsides, often kept mowed, attract rodents that love the shorter grass. For a hungry hawk, the shoulder of a highway becomes an all-you-can-eat buffet.
The Red-tailed Hawk may be the everyday raptor, but it never feels ordinary. Common doesn’t mean forgettable — each spiral high above a canyon, each shadow drifting across a field, carries its own weight. And then there’s the voice: that wild, rasping scream that slices through valleys and highways alike, a sound stitched into the soundtrack of North America. Red-tails are survivors and opportunists, equally at home on desert cliffs or city poles, embodying the resilience of the wide-open sky.
