I am translating the book by J. A. Baker called Peregrine. It is a somewhat fictionalized but still documentary record of observations of peregrine falcon. The place is the coastal part of Essex, England, the time around the 1960s.
For some reason the author often calls the bird a "hawk", although falcons and hawks belong to different taxonomic orders. Why could he be doing that? I would appreciate help with this issue.
Below are two sample paragraphs where the author interchangeably writes "peregrine" and "hawk":
"To be recognised and accepted by a peregrine you must wear the same clothes, travel by the same way, perform actions in the same order. Like all birds, it fears the unpredictable. Enter and leave the same fields at the same time each day, soothe the hawk from its wildness by a ritual of behaviour as invariable as its own. Hood the glare of the eyes, hide the white tremor of the hands, shade the stark reflecting face, assume the stillness of a tree. A peregrine fears nothing he can see clearly and far off..."
"The hardest thing of all to see is what is really there. Books about birds show pictures of the peregrine, and the text is full of information. Large and isolated in the gleaming whiteness of the page, the hawk stares back at you, bold, statuesque, brightly coloured. But when you have shut the book, you will never see that bird again..."
For some reason the author often calls the bird a "hawk", although falcons and hawks belong to different taxonomic orders. Why could he be doing that? I would appreciate help with this issue.
Below are two sample paragraphs where the author interchangeably writes "peregrine" and "hawk":
"To be recognised and accepted by a peregrine you must wear the same clothes, travel by the same way, perform actions in the same order. Like all birds, it fears the unpredictable. Enter and leave the same fields at the same time each day, soothe the hawk from its wildness by a ritual of behaviour as invariable as its own. Hood the glare of the eyes, hide the white tremor of the hands, shade the stark reflecting face, assume the stillness of a tree. A peregrine fears nothing he can see clearly and far off..."
"The hardest thing of all to see is what is really there. Books about birds show pictures of the peregrine, and the text is full of information. Large and isolated in the gleaming whiteness of the page, the hawk stares back at you, bold, statuesque, brightly coloured. But when you have shut the book, you will never see that bird again..."