Post by accipiter on Aug 17, 2015 11:10:51 GMT
A wandering minstrel’s diary, little owls, anecdotes, pastures new, and it is a funny ole do
Ah there you are, as members of the previous WAB already know I normally spend my time studying only one species of birds and have done so since a very young boy, up to a couple of years back it has been Sparrowhawks not everyone’s first choice I know but sometimes certain circumstances dictate events! So what made me change my mind and start an in depth study of another species you may ask yourself, and the answer to that is simple as you are about to find out in this second short explanation dear reader. So to start the ball rolling a “very short” synopsis on Sparrowhawks and “much edited notes” on a whole year spent follow kestrels in order to study their territorial behaviour and breeding attempt. This did involve spending the whole summer in a tent in order to record their every movement but I found it highly enjoyable and very rewarding. This is then followed it up by the subjects mentioned in the title of this little piece plus what I have been doing since we last spoke.
Incidentally some members of WAB may recognize my kestrel notes all be it a much shortened version this time, but I decided to post them again to give other members some idea of the kind of birder I am, a very usual one I am sure you will all agree!
But I am is not only interested in just the one species of birds but most of the corvid family as well as kestrels, buzzards, and little owls too and have been most of my life but it is only relatively recently that I decided that an a in-depth study was needed on each one of these other birds too for my own personal pleasure. In fact with red kites becoming a common sight and breeding here now I just might watch and study them in the future too.
Unfortunately I cannot afford the same amount of time as I spent studying the Sparrowhawk unless I manage to live as long as Methuselah which I fully intend to do of course just in case anyone is interested methuselah lived to be nine hundred and ninety six.
Being a musician I have also added a musical blog entitled (a musical journey and so the saga continues) in which I have also added still more insight into my life past and present. One’s choice of music often reveals a little of one’s character too or so they say, and what better way is there to reintroduce myself. As there is no music section as such I have placed this in the chit chat section as a “one off” I hope that is acceptable, I also hope you will find the narrative and anecdotes interesting there too.
And so by the way of an introduction and to start this little piece I now give you…
The Sparrowhawk the elusive spirit
I followed them here I followed them there down to Hampshire and everywhere were they in Devon, Scotland, or Wales my sneaky little woodland pals.
Based on the poem the Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emma Orczy
In fact the list of cars, mileage, and car repairs I did over the years goes on to infinity and beyond and as it turned out I did so many miles in one particular car that I replaced the engine not once but twice. That is not to mention suspension ball joints that seem to break on regular bases. This was most probably caused by the extra weight involved, namely everything imaginable plus the kitchen sink, well it was only a 1959 eight fifty cc mini, of course carrying and pulling the weight of a trailer tent would not have helped very much either! But looking back on it now Wales as you probably know proved to be a little bit of a “hilarious problem too “very steep hills indeed” and so it turned out to be!
Of course I have not mention the other cars I got through to which there were many, let me see now this is just a few of them Ford Cortina, – why is it only firing on three- broken cam follower bent push rod, Morris Marina, - where is that water coming from – faulty windscreen rubber, Triumph Herald, what is that knocking in the back – wheel bearings gone, Vauxhall viva, – why has the rear window just shot across the road, – prop shaft dropped off at the differential, Ford Fiesta, where is the steam coming from and why is the engine oil white, – head gasket blown and so on and so on and so on and so on! Of course I could tell you about the Reliant Robin and the little red bubble car too but you may just have a coronary, these days I stick to shank’s pony as much as possible as it is much safer!
So after watching Sparrowhawk daily behaviour for simply decades I have decided to give it a rest for the time being, I know there some who believe that breeding Sparrowhawks were wiped out from the late fifties early sixties due to pesticide poisoning but not if you knew where to find them, and Alan knew just where to find them. But from 2013 I turned my attention towards kestrels.
Kestrels are nowhere near as common on my patch as they once were in fact their numbers have been reduced to a single pair which I find very sad indeed and so I decided to leave my beloved Sparrowhawks for the time being just in case the kestrel disappeared altogether from here.
And so October to November was spent looking for suitable nest sites specifically holes in trees in the end I found only three after an awful lot of looking but all had the same pair of dark eyes looking straight back at me not birds but grey squirrels caching their food up for the winter no doubt.
Suitable farm buildings such as old barns and old trees are not as abundant as they once were especially since the demise of the elm in the late 1960s from Dutch elm disease and of course yet more suitable nest sites were lost in the great storm of 1987 too. Ash trees were chosen in the past here by kestrels as well for their tendency to have suitable holes in them but I afraid like many old hedgerows they have been lost through ploughing too close to their shallow root systems taking all the creatures that once inhabited this vibrant habitat with them. So with the lack of suitable nesting sites I decided to make some boxes, twelve in total six for kestrels and six for little owls in the hope that this may go “somewhere towards” helping these two delightful birds.
December found me watching for any movement over the meadow but the morning brought fourth an eerie fog that descended across the whole farmland in fact the meadow was now looking more like the Kent marshes in winter. Just about any minute I was expecting to see Abel Magwitch come staggering out the fog towards me, but do not get me wrong dear reader it is not the fact that I have a nervous disposition far from it for I have sit in churchyards all night before now just for the chance of seeing a barn owl.
Hmm do not worry about the dearly departed mother use to say it is only the living that are frightening, for mother always did have a way with words but I digress, suddenly I heard a noise something was moving in the woods behind me but thankfully it just turned out to be the farm manager’s old his dog panting and sniffing the air. Just to make matters far worse the fog was now getting thicker by the minute but I could just make out a shadowy apparition creeping towards me down the old lane, nothing much moving about this morning Alan came the familiar voice of the farm manager shouting out the window as he drove slowly past, no I shouted back but I swore I saw Miss Havisham floating in the fog down towards Pike pit, oh that is only lady Silvia do not ever fish in pike pit in the winter came the reply! And with that he disappeared into the fog as eerily as he first appeared, funnily enough I always felt there was something unworldly about this particular chap you may well laugh but with that I made my way home just in case.
I had already found a kestrel winters roost site so I knew there must be at least at least a slim chance that it may develop into something more to come. At the end of February into March I saw aerial displays by both the male and female which left me with encouraging thoughts that perhaps a successful outcome would transpire between these two birds.
Everything is going splendidly with my kestrels now and dawn had just broken so I decided to set up my tent and viewing station close to the old concrete road overlooking the meadow. Later into the morning this small venue really did live up to its reputation for being very good for raptors and owls with barn owl, short eared owl, and harriers all hunting almost at the same time. And so about an hour later a Sparrowhawk turned up and attacked a barn owl in a skirmish that looked quite serious no doubt on this particular occasion attracted by its slow moth like flight.
The very next day and right over at the other side of the meadow I could just make out short toes the kestrel now a lonely figure sitting in a tree through my binoculars, but once again a Sparrowhawk flashed by flying low alongside the neighbouring farms scattered hedgerow flushing a group of small birds as he did so. Some flew on to the safety of the plantation others settled back in the hedgerow further on big mistake! The hawk dived straight in and retrieved one of these small birds I could just imagine the Sparrowhawks technique inside the hedge as I had seen how they behave before on more than the one occasion, if there is enough room inside they can hop and run very quickly along the branches. And enough room there was indeed as this one like many more in the countryside these days stand thin and scattered and nowhere near as alive with life as they once were.
I thought for one minute it was going to perform a bit of LSD – limited suspended dithering outside of the hedge at first (a “very poor” two second kestrel impersonation of hovering.)
But I must admit in all this excitement I had forgotten about the kestrel and this bird had witnessed the very same thing as well and so it began to chase the Sparrowhawk on and out of sight taking great exception to the hawk being on its nesting territory, what a cheek I thought! But then again I have seen kestrels rob Sparrowhawks kills from their larders before today a couple of right opportunistic bandits if you ask me these two are not alone in being sneaky though Corvids, tawny owls, goshawks, buzzards, red kites, and grey squirrels will also take a turn given half a chance taking eggs and chicks straight out of nests.
And so towards the end of august and after many weeks of watching their fanatical territorial and hunting behaviour I was at last rewarded by the beautiful sight of three sleek smartly dressed juvenile kestrels disappearing over the tree tops and flying on to their destiny.
Unfortunately the following year only one lone kestrel returned, to no longer have any breeding kestrels here is an astounding transformation to have taken place since up to now there as always been at least one pair here and quite a few more pairs then that in the past this I am afraid to say has been caused by loss of nesting sites and modern intensive farming practises over the years as I mentioned previously, as well as the increase in buzzard numbers all helping to add to the mix.
I also think this question is even more complex than the few reasons I have already given as there is quite likely to be more then these few issues going on too. I do know that even goshawks are having an effect in some areas others say kestrel numbers may have now reached their normal levels due to the fact that they now have more competition I presume.
Whatever the answer I do know that farmland no longer has the abundant wildlife as it once did and most farms no longer have set a side which in the long run must affect rodent numbers too. Some farmers appear to be doing their bit by leaving ground cover etc. but this often turns out to be deceiving at first glance, too often game preservation or conservation as they now call has taken over where the removal of predation is a top priority of anything that walks flies or crawls, it would seem that reserves, country parks, towns, the inner cities and the few small holdings that are left have become the last hope that remain for our precious wildlife. There will always be wildlife in farmland areas of course but in the numbers there once was, I do not think so unless something radically changes!
But before I continue on any further can I just say most of what follows comes straight from notes either written last year and this or past notes and diary accounts from many moons ago both of which just had to be edited once again I am afraid otherwise this post would have been “extremely long indeed.” I have also added a few other bits and pieces just to amuse and delight or not whatever the case may be. You may find this journey does wander just a little in places too but nevertheless I have tried my best to preserve the continuity.
And so August twenty fourteen turned out to be rather wet and a fair bit colder than it should have been but I was still watching for any signs of anything as usual, on the few good days we had throughout the first three weeks of August I was trying to identify some small furry creatures that were running in and out of the plantation into a standing field of wheat. But these little fellows were moving way too fast to make out what they were I am fairly sure they were not voles, wood mice, or common shrews but in the end I decided they must have been harvest mice.
From august I decided to study and watch little owls for as long it takes to finely get to grips with this smallest member of the owl family. I did intend to carry on studying kestrels again but alas I could not find any breeding pair to study just this occasional single bird that turns up from time to time.
August twenty eighth,
To my delight I found Monty the little owl back in its usual roosting tree. As soon as it saw me it bobbed its head down deeper into its hole like some manic glove puppet only to pop up once more just to make sure if I had gone or not. I am sorry but the antics of this little fellow are just too delightful and amusing for words to express. So if you have never seen one these delightful little jokers running in their search for worms and beetles then can I suggest you stop and watch them the next time you see one. I “guarantee” you will go away with a great big smile on your face and a feeling of amusement and wellbeing, at least I always do. Their walking and running style funnily enough always reminds me of the Monty Pythons’ ministry of silly walks sketch only a whole lot more amusing if such a thing is possible. They are also what you might call a bit of a sun worshiper too often seen sitting and sunning themselves on gate posts, trees, and straw stacks. They can also run like the wind hover and catching insects just like a flycatcher looking just like comical squat toby jugs as well but do not be fooled by their appearance for here stands a pocket size terminator with the courageous heart of a lion who can take on creatures their own size and larger but much prefers smaller fare such as worms, insects, mice, voles, and small birds.
But having said all of that if ever there was a bird that one could call a generalist then this is it! From the very smallest of fare to carrion when needs be, for it really does not care in the slightest to him or her and so…
Sitting in his lonely tree strangers pass on by, too busy just to notice him the twinkling yellow eye.
He has no cares for he holds sway over all that he surveys, waiting in his lonely tree till closing of the day.
Time to hunt time to sing his haunting melody, for time draws close to present a gift in another tree
Times are good mice are here but still he soldiers on, for now he has more mouths to feed for now the job is long.
Four new calls now fill the air their rasping melody, but now two skilful hunters fly to hunt from every tree.
The time has passed its time to see the parting of their ways, but still he cannot rest this ever fearless slave.
Sitting in his lonely tree there’s something on his mind from those who may venture by, others of his kind.
He calls and sings and drives them all from his pleasant land for he must stay in his tree to make the desperate stand.
Accipiter 2014
And a desperate stand they are indeed making for the population of these little birds has taken a huge dive since they were first introduced in the ninetieth century but they were here long before that in pre historic Britain confirmed from found fossil remains.
Hmm I do not know but sometimes certain species of birds and events just seem to fire off the imagination and spark off an interest that stays with one for one’s entire life, take owls for instance we sometimes have five species of owls here three of which breed on a regular bases but there is only one species that I stop and give a second look. So what is it about the quaint little owl that does it for me, I suppose an unique encounter with a certain man as a small boy and his little owl sparked off something just too exciting that was bound to resurface again in the end.
For I could not have possible known it at the time but this chance meeting was to shape my entire life and the shape of my children lives too many years later in ways that I could not have possible imagined, (more about that later.) And of course little owls can often be encountered during daylight hours as well and if you are very lucky their breeding attempt can also be observed right round the clock as this present one can all thanks to very convenient light coming from the cottages and other farm buildings here during the hours of darkness.
September, this month’s weather started off rather pleasant as I made my way round the estate one lone marsh harrier was quartering the meadow and a family of magpies were chasing my now occasional single kestrel. Now this particular bird was clearly having none of it being very vocal as she turned and flew low over the ground and chased the magpies on and out of sight. I at first thought she may have some juveniles around for her to act this way, although no breeding kestrels were found or seen. But a large flock of linnets put in an appearance which was a nice sight to see. I do not know about you dear reader but autumn is my favourite time of year yes this time of year always seems to throw up at least a few odd surprises of something much more exciting to come.
An old lane I found running down between the fields turned out to be very good for all sorts of berries and fruits, particularly the damsons which were beginning to look very good this morning, as were the blackberries. I was tempted to pick and eat one but my father’s words came drifting back to me down through the years. Never eat a blackberry Alan! Why I seem to remember was my reply ask mother he said amusingly, and so I did.
Are you watching she said as she went about soaking the fruit in a bowl of salty water, well I watched intently but I could not see anything happening at all. What am I looking for mother, come back in the morning you may just be surprised Alan and sure enough nearly every berry produced a maggot. I can quite honestly say I have not eaten a blackberry fresh off a bush since that enlightened day.
Now then where was I oh yes September the ninth, decided to return to our wood this morning on driving up our woodland drive a female Sparrowhawk was bent low over a woodpigeon. On seeing me coming she tried in vain to carry off the meal only to drop it not three feet from where it first lay. I drove straight by in order for her to come back and finish off her meal, feeling very eager to see what else had been going on since we had been away from home.
By the looks of it my young fox family had been busy too having found the feather remains of a few young pheasant poults’, probably from the neighbouring farm. I also found two older piles of woodpigeon feathers lying scatted in the familiar ring pattern throughout the wood, clearly the work of my local Sparrowhawk. When I returned to the Sparrowhawk kill the wood pigeon had gone, either the Sparrowhawk had succeeded in dragging and carrying it off into nearby cover or something else had taken it!
Looking out over the meadow jackdaws and rooks were going about their business as usual and all seemed well I thought. One or two of my archery bosses were beginning to look a bit worse for wear this morning though so I decided to repair them as best I could and cut back a few of the brambles while I was there. This makes the course much clearer and easier to walk round so feeling happy and content with this morning’s work I made my way home.
The very next day I found four juvenile little owls still here being September so I continued to listen and watch their antics until it was too dark to see any more. By the end of the month the demanding food begging had grown silent. Hopefully they had gone to successfully find their own territory.
October brought with it a promise of more exciting things to come, yes that autumnal feeling was now “defiantly in the air” although in the second week in October the weather took a turn still worst in the form of rain and yet more rain. The third week brought with it strong winds and yet more rain! Between the rain and showers I decided to make more kestrel and little owl boxes.
This year’s migrants have begun to arrive in very good numbers though especially members of the thrush family. A very good number of golden plover were in one particular field as well, and as I walked on quite a few lesser black back gulls where helping their selves to a newly planted field of grain. I did notice this farmer had put up a flying bird scarer it was clearly not working though for hundreds of woodpigeon were also helping their selves too.
November, everyone and his dog seem to be running off further afield to gander at the rough legged buzzard but there is far too much going on here to leave. Besides once one decides to study and watch one particular species’ it is best not to allow one to get side tracked. Little owls are much more exciting and amusing than a very distant view of a rough legged buzzard fluttering in the breeze, or a close up view of one come to that! I think I can quite safely say I have been smitten by a little bird with big beautiful yellow eyes and long shapely feathered legs that only another fellow little owl lover would recognize and appreciate.
November the twenty fifth, a fairly hard frost appeared this morning the temperature only just being four degrees making it all rather unpleasant, especially with the combination of fog as well. Hmm I wonder if my prediction for snow around Christmas time will prove to be correct! Time will tell as I like to say, I normally reserved that quote for raptor behaviour that one does not yet fully understand. But if enough hours are put in the answer is normally resolved, yes time will tell as I like to say or better still in the words of the very brilliant Stephen Hawking “only time will tell”.
Most of the trees have now lost their leaves and all seemed fairly quiet until I flushed a lone cock pheasant that is, moments later a buzzard left its roosting spot only to reappear above the tree canopy. On leaving the wood my two carrion crows were also sitting in their usual spot as normal, and I was expecting to hear their loud noisy greeting but not this morning.
December, began too wet, cold, and windy to do anything much in the way of walking round the farm but still I carried on nonetheless and I did see quite a few species in the end. Late into the evenings I decided to convert my observed little owl field notes to print and continue on writing my book about my experiences spent in the field over many years with Sparrowhawks and a thousand and one other things some adventurous and mysterious enough to blow the socks clean off your feet! I have been writing this book for over four years now and I have still not scratched the surface of my notes and diary accounts, in fact between my brother Sparrowhawks notes and mine I have one hundred and forty years’ worth, enough to give Leo Tolstoy nightmares I should think well it would do if he was still alive! That is not to mention my fathers and grandfathers contributions I “never use hard drives or any other type of electronic storage devises,” as they are all vulnerable” in other words I now do not trust a paperless office any more. What with that and rushing about doing the Christmas shopping I hardly had enough time to think of anything else. By the third week of December I felt “terrible” as if some filthy scourge had dealt me a decisive blow.
And by the time I was back on my feet again and to cut a very long story short, Christmas had come and gone! Looking at the calendar it now read the thirty first of December. Hmm a right funny ole do if you ask me. You may be wondering where I picked up that expression from, the answer can be found by reading on dear reader.
January 2015, was pretty much spent convalescing and sitting in the garden on my better days, but otherwise I was pretty much house bound. I was trying to take things fairly easy just watching anything that might just fly over or pass by. Looking out over the fields a pair of buzzards were making themselves well known and quite a few other species did turn up in my garden in the end but I found staying in very difficult indeed, much too difficult for a creature that was born to wander.
Mid-January, I had an email from one of my friendly small holders this morning, telling me he heard a little owl calling last evening if only I was fit enough to get out permanently, this housebound stuff is just driving me crazy.
February, I am now feeling a little better in myself and beginning to fire on all four cylinders once again so it’s time to begin searching out the other new farm venue for this year, hopefully finding more little owls to study.
All in all the raptor / owl count was fairly good last year and this up to July 2015 and individual numbers if anything are up a little, so barn owl, buzzard, and red kites were seen fairly regally and of course Sparrowhawks were in attendance too. Other raptors / Owls seen were hen/ marsh harrier, little owl, tawny owl, (long eared owl - two, roosting in a small conifer thicket, a repeat of last year) short eared owl, peregrine falcon, my one single kestrel, hobby, merlin, great grey shrike. Oh yes and one or two raven have been turning up for the last few years now, but still not any breeding here yet!.
And just in case I now have two new kestrel boxes in place as well as two new little owl boxes I made so I hope that they will be used in future years to come.
Excitably enough though this new venue has a large pond or small lake or however one would like to describe it. It is a little smaller than pike pit on last year’s venue but a pair of mute swans was putting on quite a show this morning as I passed by. But Alan did not stop on this occasion maybe next time for I was now checking out every tree and blade of grass for more little owl signs.
After taking an eternity I have at last completed my search of the buildings and all the surrounding plantations and woods, just to get acquainted with the wildlife here and the layout of the land, but yet again almost all of it lay barren as far as wildlife goes and only the small areas around the buildings proved to be productive.
March, after hearing a male little owl calling for myself on several evening visits I at last found the point of origin of its call, and was pleased to see another little owl arrive on the scene and this pair does seem to be fairly tolerant which makes a change from last year’s pair which was somewhat rather shy and skittish. But I am pleased to say I have at last located some more pairs not too far away to study in the future as well providing all remains well, little owls are sedentary but you never know what will happen these days in terms of habitat change or some sort of accident. Still I do realise just how very lucky I am to have found more pairs to study close by as their numbers are now quite low and certainly not a species one can expect to see in general or on a regular base’s, unless you happen to be very lucky.
And lucky I seem to be for one of the pairs I found have been nesting in the very same place now for quite a number of years or so this one particular small holder tells me, and choosing a very unusual spot too which sounds very exciting to say the least. But that will have to wait for next year now as my wife and I now find we are just too busy observing our own pairs to take on still more!
It is a funny ole do
An introduction to just one of the many genial, knowledgeable, brave souls to cross my path during my many years of travels, this I dedicate to one incredibly brave soul, a giant of a man in many more ways than one.
Talking about some little owls being fairly tolerant though reminds me as a young boy I knew a man who lived a couple of miles or so from us but off the beaten track somewhat on the edge of a small wood in an old broken down cottage. This particular cottage had very few modern conveniences too and I suppose you could describe the owner as a recluse in so many ways. He also turned out to be what you might call a true enigma as well but in the fullness of time I did find out his whole life story. And what this man did not know about the countryside, wildlife, and just how to live off the land was not worth knowing. Funnily enough though he also kept a pet little owl which he would talk to as it perched on his shoulder, and he always seemed to have an array of sick and injured animals and birds that people would bring to him.
But then again people use to bring young birds they had found to me as a young boy as well. Mainly because I was known in the neighbourhood as a soft touch and good at looking after them but the way ole Fred could heal the animals and birds brought to him was nothing short of miraculous. And so he struck me as a sort of doctor dolittle if you will amongst many other things.
If one was to close their eyes you would think you were speaking to a softly spoken well-mannered gentleman with a very posh accent in fact every vowel was perfectly pronounced. He also had a turn of phrase that was decidedly quant, this man had travelled I thought and indeed he had.
On opening one’s eyes though what in fact was standing before you was someone who looked a bit like Fagan crossed with Jethro Tull! Wearing long mattered hair, a long unkempt shaggy beard, a broad rimmed floppy hat, patched baggy trousers tied at the waist with string and a long dark coat that nearly reached down to the floor. He also wore well-worn hob nailed boots just to finish off the look. And that is not to mention a deeply scarred face which could on some occasions produce facial expressions that could frighten the bats out of hell, yes indeed a very formable sort of gentleman if ever one walked the face of the earth.
Incidentally when I mentioned Jethro Tull I was speaking of the hairy musician who had such hits has the (Witches Promise) and not the inventor of the house drawn seed drill of the seventeen hundreds!
But ironically enough it was not the fact that he kept animals and birds that was so intriguing and first caught my attention but more his knowledge of music and the workings of the internal combustion engine two interests that has stayed with me throughout my entire life. And although I could not have known it at the time my other real interest in birds and Sparrowhawks in particular was yet to come, and in fact it was Fred’s but mainly my elder brother’s enthusiasm that lead to a life time obsession with this fabulous little hawk.
But of course the other children use to scream out do not go anywhere near ole Fred, he’s a mad man! Mind you so would you be if you had a gang of unruly children throwing stones at your house every day but the word on the street was ole Fred would come bursting out of cottage door waving his stick shouting at the top of his voice, go on clear off you limping heaps of brick dust and misery.
Because of the other children’s unruly behaviour getting to know Fred was not that easy, but Alan has the patience of a saint and was not the sort of chap that is easily put off by some strange looking recluse, then or indeed now! Besides he turned out to be a fountain of knowledge on “any subject” you care to mention for after all he was the very embodiment of the great professor of all there is to know. The inside of his cottage was very sparse just bare stone floors and a few chairs and a single table. An old broken-down upright piano stood in one corner of the main room and an acoustic guitar hung on the wall. Set into the wall was an old fashion black cooking range that Fred would cook his meals on, after first lighting the fire of course. Do you see that cooking range there Alan yes Fred, well there are devils living behind there, but Snapper knows how to deal with those unpleasant devils, Snapper being Fred’s Little Owl.
Sitting outside in one of the mews was a female Sparrowhawk and stranger still in one room inside his small cottage sat a female goshawk! This is not normal surly to have such a large fierce bird sitting inside one’s house but then this man was more than a little strange shall we say. Much later on I found out the reason why this bird was inside the house and I now know he was the most knowledgeable sparviter / austringer I have ever met in my entire life too without a shadow of a doubt. And interesting enough he used techniques to train these two hawks long since forgotten and not known by many of the modern austringers and sparviters of today. But despite this turn of events I was much more intrigued by the piece of sheet music entitled (You belong to me by Jo Stafford) that sat on the piano, which just happened to be one of my parents favourites tunes at the time. It was quite obviously ole Fred’s favourite song too for reasons I was to find out later.
You keep looking at my guitar Alan can you play, I can Fred and I would love to play your guitar; here you are then less play (You belong to me.) Fred’s singing voice was simply amazing and sounded not unlike some opera singer. I did my best to play along but the sight of Fred’s little owl bobbin its head up and down and then from side to side nuzzling the side of his head and snapping its beak in time with the music was just too funny for words to express. Although I tried my best to keep myself together I just could not stop laughing to myself for even then I was the proud possessor of an off the wall highly sensitive developed giggle box. But On finishing the song Fred looked up from the piano with a tear in his eye so what do think of the guitar, its great I said. It suits you Alan do take it home and enjoy it.
Wait just a minute! Perhaps the other boys were right after all; maybe he was a little bit strange nevertheless I ran all the way home up hill and down dell just in case he changed his mind and wanted the guitar back!
So after a few days had past I just had to ask, Fred! What are those devils behind your cooking range, why they are cockroaches Alan he explained along with a laugh that would send most people running for the door what did you think they were dear boy. As I left him sitting outside his little cottage playing his banjo he shouted back down the lane come back again tomorrow Alan and we will go a hawking. After that we went hawking or doing some other activity in the countryside every time I saw him and that went for another ten years in fact right up to the point when we left to move house for pastures new. The funny thing was he nearly always played the same tune on his five string banjo – (Foggy Mountain Breakdown) but it was not until years later that I learned the significance of this too. For even in his adversity this man kept a brilliant sense of humour, a truly remarkable man. On returning home though I went straight up stairs and wrote all the details down in my diary exactly the way father had taught me, for father insisted that I should write everything I did in a diary every day.
Anyway I was not home very long though before I heard mother’s voice come echoing down throughout the house, and where have you been all day Alan! So always being taught and willing to tell the truth I told her I have spent the day in a strange looking man’s cottage in fern grove, oh that is just Big Fred she said with a smile for just one minute I thought you were doing something dangerous like climbing trees again with that gang of misfits of yours. One more thing before you disappear again Alan take a very good look at my wedding photo on the piano, there amongst the group of guests was a very tall smartly dressed distinguished looking gentleman dressed in a white linen suit that looked somehow strangely familiar, good heavens above Big Fred! Just out of interest I asked mother if he was related to us in anyway, no Alan but he is your fathers’ best friend and so we chose him to be the best man at our wedding. Apparently he was passing through Goa anyway and so he kindly agreed to stop off and after the wedding he carried on with his very long journey and quest seeking out suitable people who would be willing to teach him the best ways of selecting and training hawks. And in the end he did spend quite a long time with these people studying their ways and methods. Thankfully he was able to speak quite a few language’s too so he had no trouble in that department. The more desolate and wilder the place the more it suited him, now who does that remind me of, as she turned and looked my way sporting a great big wide smile. Hmm not a bad idea this wandering I thought to myself one day Alan one day!
The very next day I was back at Fred’s little cottage once again, hawking again today Alan but angel and grip both love you now so do not worry will you. Let’s just say Fred’s idea of a dog taking a shine to you was so very different than what most people would expect! I will just fire up the old bone shaker first so you will not have to walk. Incidentally the old bone shaker turned out to be an old lorry angel a goshawk, and grip the vicious looking dog. You take grip and the ferret and I will take angel he said so off we went with Fred talking to himself as per usual while at the same time pulling some “very strange faces.” Although this goshawk had that fierce look about it that all goshawks have nothing could be further from the truth in fact this bird had such a placid temperament I wondered if it was ill or not but Fred assured me that it was far from ill, on the contrary this bird was “very efficient at its trade” as he put it. But what was I to know for I was only a young boy with next to no knowledge of hawks of course but even so it did strike me as very strange that these two hawks should be so well behaved. Especially the brute or angel as Fred called her but always being a very inquisitive sort of chap and one who should question every single thing (something taught to me by my father and number one on a list of four very important things that I should know) I felt I just had to ask, Fred how is it your hawks look so placid and behave so well, ask your father Alan I’ve given all my journals to him for when your older, it is a funny ole do my boy. Well quite frankly I just thought ole Fred was having another one of his funny turns again and quite why he would give these journals to my father struck me as somewhat odd, not long after very sadly I found out the reason why this was too.
Anyway I do not suppose any of you good people has ever sit between a goshawk and a vicious looking dog at least it looked vicious, but then again so did Fred but nevertheless it continued to eye me up and down and I must say I found it just a little unsettling. Not to mention sitting in a rusty battered old lorry with very little springs and a crash gearbox that nearly sent your spine out of the top your head every time he tried to change gear.
I could hardly hear Fred’s voice above the rattle and noise of the engine but I could tell by his facial expressions he was shouting in order to make himself heard. The secret is getting to know just when and how to double the clutch Alan, of course I do not think Fred had it quite right otherwise there would not have been one “awful crunch” every time he tried to change gear. And I do not mean the standard crunch that you get from a crash gearbox but something entirely different, very often sending me off my seat and leaving me floating in mid-air most of the time too!
Remind me to fill in those holes one day he said as he continued to shout while he bounced up and down in his seat while flashing his usual wicked smile my way all at the same time. But he still continued to drive quite fast down the old narrow lane whether I was floating in mid-air or not! But I now know there was no malice intended in his behaviour or his wicked smile but rather a look of excitement and thrill of someone who had learnt just how to take life by the scuff of the neck and milk it of every last drop. Yes it would seem that we both had found and recognised that kindred spirit that only two likeminded people could have.
My memory is not as good as it once was so thank goodness I wrote everything down but I do remember the last time I saw him as if it way only yesterday. For this particular morning I was up with the lark banging on ole Fred’s door. Morning Fred and how are you today, I do not feel so good this morning Alan and how are you dear boy, not so good either I have some bad news Fred apparently we are going to move house again so its pastures new again I suppose. Giving me one of his sad looks he then laid one hand upon my shoulder Alan he said you have been a good friend and I have really have enjoyed our time together, and for the second time since I knew him a tear appeared in his eye. Being emotional in other ways too was not really that unusual for Fred and he would often show it during the entire time I knew him. He then spoke just four more words, the same four I have since heard from other elderly people and have now come to recognise the meaning of, - I am feeling tired. Well as you probably have realised by this time I was becoming a little worried about his health and behaviour, I may well have been still young at the time and a little inexperienced about the ways of the world but I was old enough to know something was not quite right from overheard conversations between mother and father both being in the medical profession as a doctor and surgeon.
Years later I asked mother about Fred and his “very strange behaviour,” and a mysterious visitor that used to turn up from time to time and how did ole Fred come to have a finish goshawk that felt like it weighed a ton in the first place! What she told me must remain a secret for now I am afraid but I can say all the answers along with the rest of ole Fred’s very long eventful life story will be contained within my book and many others stories experienced during my wanderings in this country and abroad. But I can say the explanations to the whole affair and the mysterious visitor were far more involved and earth shattering then I could ever have possible imagined.
But as if those revelation was not earth shattering enough to take in for one day I was still not expecting the next revelation, did you know the poor sweet man suffered terribly during the Second World War coming home with severe post-traumatic stress disorder. And later he also suffered a “mental breakdown” too. As if that was not enough to endure he also suffered from physical injuries’ which he received during those years spent on the Burma “death railway.” Well I just stood there with an open mouth just staring at my mother as you can probably all imagine. She went on to explain that father and Fred served together in the army during the war only Fred was captured by the Japanese and forced to work on the death railway. For once in my life I was lost for words but suddenly everything became so very clear. Just what hellish demons ole Fred was forced to carry around with him one could only just imagine and there I was thinking he was just playing around in his happier moments for my benefit or just eccentric.
But many years have passed since those days and I am now very pleased to say goshawks are once again heard close to where he was living in the form of a breeding pair. Could one of these birds be a descendant of Fred’s goshawk I cannot think of a more fitting tribute to a man who spent half of his life caring for wildlife.
Yes Fred was a very clever man all right but he did get one thing “completely wrong” he thought I would want a hawk to train myself one day, when in fact I had and still have no interest in that particular activity whatsoever. But I suppose by given his travel journals to father he hoped I would make good use of them. But as I mentioned before I was “far more interested” in what he could teach me about the internal combustion engine and music, the latter being so very different from the very formal way being taught to me by my parents.
I recreated ole Fred’s journeys some years later and I must admit the charm and charismatic personality of the previous suave Englishman had not been forgotten by the people I met, well he was the professor of all there is to know so how could it have been. But that whole saga is yet another story and just as exciting if not more so than the whirling dervishes I saw.
And unsurprisingly he did teach me a great deal in the ten years I knew him about animals, birds, engines, music, and how to live off the land as well as a whole host of other things too, knowledge that for the most part was handed down through the generations. I still have his travel journals which explain and show in minute detail just how to train hawks and a lot more information on other things as well, including the psychology of the mind far too difficult and involved for me to understand. But it did go on to inspire two of my sons to become members of the medical profession, one even a psychiatrist all thanks to the written word and the power of those travel journals. It was just a sheer tragedy that ole Fred had to learn the hard way the depths that the human psyche can be driven to.
Hmm yes dear ole Big Fred I do not know who looked the fiercest in the end though him or his goshawk. But if ever a man had a heart of pure gold than surly it was him for he was the kindest most thoughtful person that one could possibly ever have the very good fortune to meet.
Mid-March, I parked some distance from the farm this morning in order to check out the old rookery. I do love rooks and crows the reason why is another whole story in its self but to some people both are noisy troublesome creatures but not to me. For as young boy I kept and nursed back to health most of the corvid family and believe me when I say no other family of birds represent the human condition, crows are crafty clever and can be “extremely affectionate,” rooks clever but spiteful having a very complex personality, jackdaws, jays, and magpies mischievous for the most part but guess what, I love them all.
I often hear them called the bogie man of the bird world as well normally by the very same people who misunderstand Sparrowhawks and their role in the grand scheme. Personally I have never believed this to be true. I guess it’s just down to plain ignorance why they are persecuted in the paranoid way they are. And it is all because they sometimes take the eggs and young of other birds during the nesting season. But I refuse to believe this makes any substantial dent in the populations as a whole and I am pleased to see that a new study agrees that the killing of Corvids is utterly pointless most of the time too. Besides some bird species such as Kestrels and little owls for instance rely on old carrion Crow’s and magpie nests in some area’s to use themselves, as old barns and suitable holes in trees are no longer as abundant as they once were. This is one of the reasons why I have made a concerted effort to provide nest boxes for these two particular species.
But I digress, looking out through the car window there was not a single soul in sight this morning for even the recreation ground was empty now when we were children we were always out playing games either that or building camps, bird watching, making music, or some such thing and what larks the four musketeers would get up to! For instance seeing who could be the fastest to climb up the highest tree and down again thinking about it now we must have been crazy, and indeed we were. For one day instead of climbing all the way down one of us Sid by name jumped the last six feet or so and each time the distance would get greater. And as I recall he had a crazy habit of swinging on branches too no matter how high or thin, so much so he soon earned the title – the daring young man on the flying trapeze.
However back to the job in hand for things in the little owl department have now started to develop and so the hard work now begins, but fortunately enough for me for the time being I can watch this pair all from the comfort of my car for the time being.
March the twenty eighth, singing and being “extremely affectionate” seems to be the name of the game; in fact I am beginning to wonder if they are ever going to stop. For in my experience little owls are very affectionate birds indeed and I am expecting the big event at some point too (egg laying) although I will not know for sure until the incubation period begins in earnest when the female will disappear. The male will then enter the nest site itself with his little food parcels.
Mid-April, time to put up the tent once again and so it begins!
May, exciting stuff this and since my birding patch as increased somewhat in size from last year I now have eight breeding pairs of Sparrowhawk as well, plus other breeding raptors or so Claire my wife tells me. Without her help in the last few months or indeed throughout the years I would have been unaware and would have missed many events especially in times like this when I am permanently glued to this one small area.
Eight pair of breeding Sparrowhawks I hear you cry, yes indeed but suffice to say most of their food requirements are not coming from the countryside here as it once did but from the surrounding villages. In fact the large wood where my brother and I first found our first nest many years ago no longer supports the diverse wildlife as it once did, most of it gone in the wink of an eye, or so it would seem.
June, four young little owls are now showing themselves and being very vocal as one might expect and now both parents are extremely busy keeping up with their incessant demands. My daily notes are beginning to fill up my rather large note book as you may imagine but it is well worth it and I cannot recommend it highly enough no matter what your particular interest is, as they will also become invaluable to you in years to come too.
Mid-August, yes they are still here providing me with still more notes but I expect in the next couple of weeks or so they will be gone to hopefully find their own territory. And as for my wife’s observations well her notes are making yet another contribution to my growing file to be typed up and printed off which means still more work, who ever said retirement brought boredom was clearly not correct!
I do not know when your diary entries began dear reader for every nature enthusiast should keep notes or a diary. Mine started at a very early age as I mentioned previously on the suggestion of father, and what a simply splendid suggestion it turned out to be. But like most events in life certain events stick out and are recalled more easily than others, especially as one grows older! So just to add one last one, picture if you can a beautiful summer’s day the sound of bees buzzing and the sight of king fisher’s flying up and down a small stream running through the idyllic romantic setting of a country meadow. A pair of kestrels were nesting in the village church tower behind me one constantly calling as I and my beautiful long brown haired little darling sit on the high bank of the stream just watching the world go by.
On one corner of this meandering stream a family of little owls were being fed in a pollarded willow, for this was my very first introduction to a breeding pair of little owls and their bobbing dome shaped heads. But this was also when the world was young, and so was I. The pace of life was slower, the summer months seemed endless, and all seemed well in my happy world, ah memories halcyon days indeed.
Just to our right hand side stood a small chicken farm the scattered chicken houses dotted out across the field. With the chickens of course came mice and rats, wild rabbits played in these fields with foxes, stoats, and on occasions the odd weasel. No doubt a great headache to the famer but these in turn brought kestrels and three species of owls, tawny owl, and barn owl, and little owl, nature in balance I like to think. And in the summer evenings simply thousands of cockchafers filled the sweet barmy air all food for the resident little owl pair of course. Which now reminds me the last time I saw any cockchafers in any numbers at all must have been years ago.
An old disused lime pit stood in one corner of the farmers’ field long since over- grown with shrubs and small trees, tree sparrows nested there along with turtle doves, their purring calls filling the thick summer air. In the other corner of the field sheltered by a few small trees a small duck pond, complete with ducks and moorhens. And still further out in this small field a very large heap of straw and manure to some no doubt an untidy smelly mess. But this particular jewelled attraction was just that for all sorts of creatures, and was to me just sheer magic being still only a young boy.
This was also one of the places I checked out for little owls last summer but guess what, all these things are now gone! The land having been sold and developed into an up market concreted gated housing estate. The beautiful meadow no longer existed and neither did the chicken farm, no owls, tree sparrows, turtle doves king fishers or indeed any of the things I mentioned previously. The year before revealed a similar scene when I returned to my former home; the only thing left was a very small trickle of water in an over- grown stream. Another funny ole do altogether if you ask me but as ever Alan is still “reviewing the whole situation.”
But what will I be doing come September, well I know what I plan to do but sometimes things do not always turn out the way one would like them to, or to quote Troy Tempest, “anything can happen in the next half hour.”
And there is of course my buzzards I have been meaning to start a study on them ever since they first arrived these have produced offspring every year which interest me too hmm so much to do and so little time, I often use to take the short cut though the nearby plantation where the male buzzard was quite often seen still hunting taking young woodpigeon from their nests and grey squirrels too believe it or not in fact from what I could make out grey squirrels being a preference for this one particular male bird.
The speed and the manoeuvrability of this bird was simply amazing flying through the wood dodging branches with enough panache to rival a Sparrowhawk, well almost! Who ever said these birds were slow and lazy creatures had it completely wrong when needs must they can really move take it from me. All this prey was destined for the female and her chicks of course waiting on the nest down in buzzard wood.
Still I think I better call this post long enough and call it a day for now dear reader, but if anyone is wondering about the four important things that every young man should know I have placed them towards the end of the music section.
Alan the wandering minstrel
Ah there you are, as members of the previous WAB already know I normally spend my time studying only one species of birds and have done so since a very young boy, up to a couple of years back it has been Sparrowhawks not everyone’s first choice I know but sometimes certain circumstances dictate events! So what made me change my mind and start an in depth study of another species you may ask yourself, and the answer to that is simple as you are about to find out in this second short explanation dear reader. So to start the ball rolling a “very short” synopsis on Sparrowhawks and “much edited notes” on a whole year spent follow kestrels in order to study their territorial behaviour and breeding attempt. This did involve spending the whole summer in a tent in order to record their every movement but I found it highly enjoyable and very rewarding. This is then followed it up by the subjects mentioned in the title of this little piece plus what I have been doing since we last spoke.
Incidentally some members of WAB may recognize my kestrel notes all be it a much shortened version this time, but I decided to post them again to give other members some idea of the kind of birder I am, a very usual one I am sure you will all agree!
But I am is not only interested in just the one species of birds but most of the corvid family as well as kestrels, buzzards, and little owls too and have been most of my life but it is only relatively recently that I decided that an a in-depth study was needed on each one of these other birds too for my own personal pleasure. In fact with red kites becoming a common sight and breeding here now I just might watch and study them in the future too.
Unfortunately I cannot afford the same amount of time as I spent studying the Sparrowhawk unless I manage to live as long as Methuselah which I fully intend to do of course just in case anyone is interested methuselah lived to be nine hundred and ninety six.
Being a musician I have also added a musical blog entitled (a musical journey and so the saga continues) in which I have also added still more insight into my life past and present. One’s choice of music often reveals a little of one’s character too or so they say, and what better way is there to reintroduce myself. As there is no music section as such I have placed this in the chit chat section as a “one off” I hope that is acceptable, I also hope you will find the narrative and anecdotes interesting there too.
And so by the way of an introduction and to start this little piece I now give you…
The Sparrowhawk the elusive spirit
I followed them here I followed them there down to Hampshire and everywhere were they in Devon, Scotland, or Wales my sneaky little woodland pals.
Based on the poem the Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emma Orczy
In fact the list of cars, mileage, and car repairs I did over the years goes on to infinity and beyond and as it turned out I did so many miles in one particular car that I replaced the engine not once but twice. That is not to mention suspension ball joints that seem to break on regular bases. This was most probably caused by the extra weight involved, namely everything imaginable plus the kitchen sink, well it was only a 1959 eight fifty cc mini, of course carrying and pulling the weight of a trailer tent would not have helped very much either! But looking back on it now Wales as you probably know proved to be a little bit of a “hilarious problem too “very steep hills indeed” and so it turned out to be!
Of course I have not mention the other cars I got through to which there were many, let me see now this is just a few of them Ford Cortina, – why is it only firing on three- broken cam follower bent push rod, Morris Marina, - where is that water coming from – faulty windscreen rubber, Triumph Herald, what is that knocking in the back – wheel bearings gone, Vauxhall viva, – why has the rear window just shot across the road, – prop shaft dropped off at the differential, Ford Fiesta, where is the steam coming from and why is the engine oil white, – head gasket blown and so on and so on and so on and so on! Of course I could tell you about the Reliant Robin and the little red bubble car too but you may just have a coronary, these days I stick to shank’s pony as much as possible as it is much safer!
So after watching Sparrowhawk daily behaviour for simply decades I have decided to give it a rest for the time being, I know there some who believe that breeding Sparrowhawks were wiped out from the late fifties early sixties due to pesticide poisoning but not if you knew where to find them, and Alan knew just where to find them. But from 2013 I turned my attention towards kestrels.
The kestrel masters of the air
Kestrels are nowhere near as common on my patch as they once were in fact their numbers have been reduced to a single pair which I find very sad indeed and so I decided to leave my beloved Sparrowhawks for the time being just in case the kestrel disappeared altogether from here.
And so October to November was spent looking for suitable nest sites specifically holes in trees in the end I found only three after an awful lot of looking but all had the same pair of dark eyes looking straight back at me not birds but grey squirrels caching their food up for the winter no doubt.
Suitable farm buildings such as old barns and old trees are not as abundant as they once were especially since the demise of the elm in the late 1960s from Dutch elm disease and of course yet more suitable nest sites were lost in the great storm of 1987 too. Ash trees were chosen in the past here by kestrels as well for their tendency to have suitable holes in them but I afraid like many old hedgerows they have been lost through ploughing too close to their shallow root systems taking all the creatures that once inhabited this vibrant habitat with them. So with the lack of suitable nesting sites I decided to make some boxes, twelve in total six for kestrels and six for little owls in the hope that this may go “somewhere towards” helping these two delightful birds.
December found me watching for any movement over the meadow but the morning brought fourth an eerie fog that descended across the whole farmland in fact the meadow was now looking more like the Kent marshes in winter. Just about any minute I was expecting to see Abel Magwitch come staggering out the fog towards me, but do not get me wrong dear reader it is not the fact that I have a nervous disposition far from it for I have sit in churchyards all night before now just for the chance of seeing a barn owl.
Hmm do not worry about the dearly departed mother use to say it is only the living that are frightening, for mother always did have a way with words but I digress, suddenly I heard a noise something was moving in the woods behind me but thankfully it just turned out to be the farm manager’s old his dog panting and sniffing the air. Just to make matters far worse the fog was now getting thicker by the minute but I could just make out a shadowy apparition creeping towards me down the old lane, nothing much moving about this morning Alan came the familiar voice of the farm manager shouting out the window as he drove slowly past, no I shouted back but I swore I saw Miss Havisham floating in the fog down towards Pike pit, oh that is only lady Silvia do not ever fish in pike pit in the winter came the reply! And with that he disappeared into the fog as eerily as he first appeared, funnily enough I always felt there was something unworldly about this particular chap you may well laugh but with that I made my way home just in case.
I had already found a kestrel winters roost site so I knew there must be at least at least a slim chance that it may develop into something more to come. At the end of February into March I saw aerial displays by both the male and female which left me with encouraging thoughts that perhaps a successful outcome would transpire between these two birds.
Everything is going splendidly with my kestrels now and dawn had just broken so I decided to set up my tent and viewing station close to the old concrete road overlooking the meadow. Later into the morning this small venue really did live up to its reputation for being very good for raptors and owls with barn owl, short eared owl, and harriers all hunting almost at the same time. And so about an hour later a Sparrowhawk turned up and attacked a barn owl in a skirmish that looked quite serious no doubt on this particular occasion attracted by its slow moth like flight.
The very next day and right over at the other side of the meadow I could just make out short toes the kestrel now a lonely figure sitting in a tree through my binoculars, but once again a Sparrowhawk flashed by flying low alongside the neighbouring farms scattered hedgerow flushing a group of small birds as he did so. Some flew on to the safety of the plantation others settled back in the hedgerow further on big mistake! The hawk dived straight in and retrieved one of these small birds I could just imagine the Sparrowhawks technique inside the hedge as I had seen how they behave before on more than the one occasion, if there is enough room inside they can hop and run very quickly along the branches. And enough room there was indeed as this one like many more in the countryside these days stand thin and scattered and nowhere near as alive with life as they once were.
I thought for one minute it was going to perform a bit of LSD – limited suspended dithering outside of the hedge at first (a “very poor” two second kestrel impersonation of hovering.)
But I must admit in all this excitement I had forgotten about the kestrel and this bird had witnessed the very same thing as well and so it began to chase the Sparrowhawk on and out of sight taking great exception to the hawk being on its nesting territory, what a cheek I thought! But then again I have seen kestrels rob Sparrowhawks kills from their larders before today a couple of right opportunistic bandits if you ask me these two are not alone in being sneaky though Corvids, tawny owls, goshawks, buzzards, red kites, and grey squirrels will also take a turn given half a chance taking eggs and chicks straight out of nests.
And so towards the end of august and after many weeks of watching their fanatical territorial and hunting behaviour I was at last rewarded by the beautiful sight of three sleek smartly dressed juvenile kestrels disappearing over the tree tops and flying on to their destiny.
Unfortunately the following year only one lone kestrel returned, to no longer have any breeding kestrels here is an astounding transformation to have taken place since up to now there as always been at least one pair here and quite a few more pairs then that in the past this I am afraid to say has been caused by loss of nesting sites and modern intensive farming practises over the years as I mentioned previously, as well as the increase in buzzard numbers all helping to add to the mix.
I also think this question is even more complex than the few reasons I have already given as there is quite likely to be more then these few issues going on too. I do know that even goshawks are having an effect in some areas others say kestrel numbers may have now reached their normal levels due to the fact that they now have more competition I presume.
Whatever the answer I do know that farmland no longer has the abundant wildlife as it once did and most farms no longer have set a side which in the long run must affect rodent numbers too. Some farmers appear to be doing their bit by leaving ground cover etc. but this often turns out to be deceiving at first glance, too often game preservation or conservation as they now call has taken over where the removal of predation is a top priority of anything that walks flies or crawls, it would seem that reserves, country parks, towns, the inner cities and the few small holdings that are left have become the last hope that remain for our precious wildlife. There will always be wildlife in farmland areas of course but in the numbers there once was, I do not think so unless something radically changes!
But before I continue on any further can I just say most of what follows comes straight from notes either written last year and this or past notes and diary accounts from many moons ago both of which just had to be edited once again I am afraid otherwise this post would have been “extremely long indeed.” I have also added a few other bits and pieces just to amuse and delight or not whatever the case may be. You may find this journey does wander just a little in places too but nevertheless I have tried my best to preserve the continuity.
And so August twenty fourteen turned out to be rather wet and a fair bit colder than it should have been but I was still watching for any signs of anything as usual, on the few good days we had throughout the first three weeks of August I was trying to identify some small furry creatures that were running in and out of the plantation into a standing field of wheat. But these little fellows were moving way too fast to make out what they were I am fairly sure they were not voles, wood mice, or common shrews but in the end I decided they must have been harvest mice.
From august I decided to study and watch little owls for as long it takes to finely get to grips with this smallest member of the owl family. I did intend to carry on studying kestrels again but alas I could not find any breeding pair to study just this occasional single bird that turns up from time to time.
August twenty eighth,
To my delight I found Monty the little owl back in its usual roosting tree. As soon as it saw me it bobbed its head down deeper into its hole like some manic glove puppet only to pop up once more just to make sure if I had gone or not. I am sorry but the antics of this little fellow are just too delightful and amusing for words to express. So if you have never seen one these delightful little jokers running in their search for worms and beetles then can I suggest you stop and watch them the next time you see one. I “guarantee” you will go away with a great big smile on your face and a feeling of amusement and wellbeing, at least I always do. Their walking and running style funnily enough always reminds me of the Monty Pythons’ ministry of silly walks sketch only a whole lot more amusing if such a thing is possible. They are also what you might call a bit of a sun worshiper too often seen sitting and sunning themselves on gate posts, trees, and straw stacks. They can also run like the wind hover and catching insects just like a flycatcher looking just like comical squat toby jugs as well but do not be fooled by their appearance for here stands a pocket size terminator with the courageous heart of a lion who can take on creatures their own size and larger but much prefers smaller fare such as worms, insects, mice, voles, and small birds.
But having said all of that if ever there was a bird that one could call a generalist then this is it! From the very smallest of fare to carrion when needs be, for it really does not care in the slightest to him or her and so…
The Little Owl
Sitting in his lonely tree strangers pass on by, too busy just to notice him the twinkling yellow eye.
He has no cares for he holds sway over all that he surveys, waiting in his lonely tree till closing of the day.
Time to hunt time to sing his haunting melody, for time draws close to present a gift in another tree
Times are good mice are here but still he soldiers on, for now he has more mouths to feed for now the job is long.
Four new calls now fill the air their rasping melody, but now two skilful hunters fly to hunt from every tree.
The time has passed its time to see the parting of their ways, but still he cannot rest this ever fearless slave.
Sitting in his lonely tree there’s something on his mind from those who may venture by, others of his kind.
He calls and sings and drives them all from his pleasant land for he must stay in his tree to make the desperate stand.
Accipiter 2014
And a desperate stand they are indeed making for the population of these little birds has taken a huge dive since they were first introduced in the ninetieth century but they were here long before that in pre historic Britain confirmed from found fossil remains.
Hmm I do not know but sometimes certain species of birds and events just seem to fire off the imagination and spark off an interest that stays with one for one’s entire life, take owls for instance we sometimes have five species of owls here three of which breed on a regular bases but there is only one species that I stop and give a second look. So what is it about the quaint little owl that does it for me, I suppose an unique encounter with a certain man as a small boy and his little owl sparked off something just too exciting that was bound to resurface again in the end.
For I could not have possible known it at the time but this chance meeting was to shape my entire life and the shape of my children lives too many years later in ways that I could not have possible imagined, (more about that later.) And of course little owls can often be encountered during daylight hours as well and if you are very lucky their breeding attempt can also be observed right round the clock as this present one can all thanks to very convenient light coming from the cottages and other farm buildings here during the hours of darkness.
A new beginning
September, this month’s weather started off rather pleasant as I made my way round the estate one lone marsh harrier was quartering the meadow and a family of magpies were chasing my now occasional single kestrel. Now this particular bird was clearly having none of it being very vocal as she turned and flew low over the ground and chased the magpies on and out of sight. I at first thought she may have some juveniles around for her to act this way, although no breeding kestrels were found or seen. But a large flock of linnets put in an appearance which was a nice sight to see. I do not know about you dear reader but autumn is my favourite time of year yes this time of year always seems to throw up at least a few odd surprises of something much more exciting to come.
An old lane I found running down between the fields turned out to be very good for all sorts of berries and fruits, particularly the damsons which were beginning to look very good this morning, as were the blackberries. I was tempted to pick and eat one but my father’s words came drifting back to me down through the years. Never eat a blackberry Alan! Why I seem to remember was my reply ask mother he said amusingly, and so I did.
Are you watching she said as she went about soaking the fruit in a bowl of salty water, well I watched intently but I could not see anything happening at all. What am I looking for mother, come back in the morning you may just be surprised Alan and sure enough nearly every berry produced a maggot. I can quite honestly say I have not eaten a blackberry fresh off a bush since that enlightened day.
Now then where was I oh yes September the ninth, decided to return to our wood this morning on driving up our woodland drive a female Sparrowhawk was bent low over a woodpigeon. On seeing me coming she tried in vain to carry off the meal only to drop it not three feet from where it first lay. I drove straight by in order for her to come back and finish off her meal, feeling very eager to see what else had been going on since we had been away from home.
By the looks of it my young fox family had been busy too having found the feather remains of a few young pheasant poults’, probably from the neighbouring farm. I also found two older piles of woodpigeon feathers lying scatted in the familiar ring pattern throughout the wood, clearly the work of my local Sparrowhawk. When I returned to the Sparrowhawk kill the wood pigeon had gone, either the Sparrowhawk had succeeded in dragging and carrying it off into nearby cover or something else had taken it!
Looking out over the meadow jackdaws and rooks were going about their business as usual and all seemed well I thought. One or two of my archery bosses were beginning to look a bit worse for wear this morning though so I decided to repair them as best I could and cut back a few of the brambles while I was there. This makes the course much clearer and easier to walk round so feeling happy and content with this morning’s work I made my way home.
The very next day I found four juvenile little owls still here being September so I continued to listen and watch their antics until it was too dark to see any more. By the end of the month the demanding food begging had grown silent. Hopefully they had gone to successfully find their own territory.
October brought with it a promise of more exciting things to come, yes that autumnal feeling was now “defiantly in the air” although in the second week in October the weather took a turn still worst in the form of rain and yet more rain. The third week brought with it strong winds and yet more rain! Between the rain and showers I decided to make more kestrel and little owl boxes.
This year’s migrants have begun to arrive in very good numbers though especially members of the thrush family. A very good number of golden plover were in one particular field as well, and as I walked on quite a few lesser black back gulls where helping their selves to a newly planted field of grain. I did notice this farmer had put up a flying bird scarer it was clearly not working though for hundreds of woodpigeon were also helping their selves too.
November, everyone and his dog seem to be running off further afield to gander at the rough legged buzzard but there is far too much going on here to leave. Besides once one decides to study and watch one particular species’ it is best not to allow one to get side tracked. Little owls are much more exciting and amusing than a very distant view of a rough legged buzzard fluttering in the breeze, or a close up view of one come to that! I think I can quite safely say I have been smitten by a little bird with big beautiful yellow eyes and long shapely feathered legs that only another fellow little owl lover would recognize and appreciate.
November the twenty fifth, a fairly hard frost appeared this morning the temperature only just being four degrees making it all rather unpleasant, especially with the combination of fog as well. Hmm I wonder if my prediction for snow around Christmas time will prove to be correct! Time will tell as I like to say, I normally reserved that quote for raptor behaviour that one does not yet fully understand. But if enough hours are put in the answer is normally resolved, yes time will tell as I like to say or better still in the words of the very brilliant Stephen Hawking “only time will tell”.
Most of the trees have now lost their leaves and all seemed fairly quiet until I flushed a lone cock pheasant that is, moments later a buzzard left its roosting spot only to reappear above the tree canopy. On leaving the wood my two carrion crows were also sitting in their usual spot as normal, and I was expecting to hear their loud noisy greeting but not this morning.
December, began too wet, cold, and windy to do anything much in the way of walking round the farm but still I carried on nonetheless and I did see quite a few species in the end. Late into the evenings I decided to convert my observed little owl field notes to print and continue on writing my book about my experiences spent in the field over many years with Sparrowhawks and a thousand and one other things some adventurous and mysterious enough to blow the socks clean off your feet! I have been writing this book for over four years now and I have still not scratched the surface of my notes and diary accounts, in fact between my brother Sparrowhawks notes and mine I have one hundred and forty years’ worth, enough to give Leo Tolstoy nightmares I should think well it would do if he was still alive! That is not to mention my fathers and grandfathers contributions I “never use hard drives or any other type of electronic storage devises,” as they are all vulnerable” in other words I now do not trust a paperless office any more. What with that and rushing about doing the Christmas shopping I hardly had enough time to think of anything else. By the third week of December I felt “terrible” as if some filthy scourge had dealt me a decisive blow.
And by the time I was back on my feet again and to cut a very long story short, Christmas had come and gone! Looking at the calendar it now read the thirty first of December. Hmm a right funny ole do if you ask me. You may be wondering where I picked up that expression from, the answer can be found by reading on dear reader.
January 2015, was pretty much spent convalescing and sitting in the garden on my better days, but otherwise I was pretty much house bound. I was trying to take things fairly easy just watching anything that might just fly over or pass by. Looking out over the fields a pair of buzzards were making themselves well known and quite a few other species did turn up in my garden in the end but I found staying in very difficult indeed, much too difficult for a creature that was born to wander.
Mid-January, I had an email from one of my friendly small holders this morning, telling me he heard a little owl calling last evening if only I was fit enough to get out permanently, this housebound stuff is just driving me crazy.
February, I am now feeling a little better in myself and beginning to fire on all four cylinders once again so it’s time to begin searching out the other new farm venue for this year, hopefully finding more little owls to study.
All in all the raptor / owl count was fairly good last year and this up to July 2015 and individual numbers if anything are up a little, so barn owl, buzzard, and red kites were seen fairly regally and of course Sparrowhawks were in attendance too. Other raptors / Owls seen were hen/ marsh harrier, little owl, tawny owl, (long eared owl - two, roosting in a small conifer thicket, a repeat of last year) short eared owl, peregrine falcon, my one single kestrel, hobby, merlin, great grey shrike. Oh yes and one or two raven have been turning up for the last few years now, but still not any breeding here yet!.
And just in case I now have two new kestrel boxes in place as well as two new little owl boxes I made so I hope that they will be used in future years to come.
Excitably enough though this new venue has a large pond or small lake or however one would like to describe it. It is a little smaller than pike pit on last year’s venue but a pair of mute swans was putting on quite a show this morning as I passed by. But Alan did not stop on this occasion maybe next time for I was now checking out every tree and blade of grass for more little owl signs.
After taking an eternity I have at last completed my search of the buildings and all the surrounding plantations and woods, just to get acquainted with the wildlife here and the layout of the land, but yet again almost all of it lay barren as far as wildlife goes and only the small areas around the buildings proved to be productive.
March, after hearing a male little owl calling for myself on several evening visits I at last found the point of origin of its call, and was pleased to see another little owl arrive on the scene and this pair does seem to be fairly tolerant which makes a change from last year’s pair which was somewhat rather shy and skittish. But I am pleased to say I have at last located some more pairs not too far away to study in the future as well providing all remains well, little owls are sedentary but you never know what will happen these days in terms of habitat change or some sort of accident. Still I do realise just how very lucky I am to have found more pairs to study close by as their numbers are now quite low and certainly not a species one can expect to see in general or on a regular base’s, unless you happen to be very lucky.
And lucky I seem to be for one of the pairs I found have been nesting in the very same place now for quite a number of years or so this one particular small holder tells me, and choosing a very unusual spot too which sounds very exciting to say the least. But that will have to wait for next year now as my wife and I now find we are just too busy observing our own pairs to take on still more!
It is a funny ole do
An introduction to just one of the many genial, knowledgeable, brave souls to cross my path during my many years of travels, this I dedicate to one incredibly brave soul, a giant of a man in many more ways than one.
Talking about some little owls being fairly tolerant though reminds me as a young boy I knew a man who lived a couple of miles or so from us but off the beaten track somewhat on the edge of a small wood in an old broken down cottage. This particular cottage had very few modern conveniences too and I suppose you could describe the owner as a recluse in so many ways. He also turned out to be what you might call a true enigma as well but in the fullness of time I did find out his whole life story. And what this man did not know about the countryside, wildlife, and just how to live off the land was not worth knowing. Funnily enough though he also kept a pet little owl which he would talk to as it perched on his shoulder, and he always seemed to have an array of sick and injured animals and birds that people would bring to him.
But then again people use to bring young birds they had found to me as a young boy as well. Mainly because I was known in the neighbourhood as a soft touch and good at looking after them but the way ole Fred could heal the animals and birds brought to him was nothing short of miraculous. And so he struck me as a sort of doctor dolittle if you will amongst many other things.
If one was to close their eyes you would think you were speaking to a softly spoken well-mannered gentleman with a very posh accent in fact every vowel was perfectly pronounced. He also had a turn of phrase that was decidedly quant, this man had travelled I thought and indeed he had.
On opening one’s eyes though what in fact was standing before you was someone who looked a bit like Fagan crossed with Jethro Tull! Wearing long mattered hair, a long unkempt shaggy beard, a broad rimmed floppy hat, patched baggy trousers tied at the waist with string and a long dark coat that nearly reached down to the floor. He also wore well-worn hob nailed boots just to finish off the look. And that is not to mention a deeply scarred face which could on some occasions produce facial expressions that could frighten the bats out of hell, yes indeed a very formable sort of gentleman if ever one walked the face of the earth.
Incidentally when I mentioned Jethro Tull I was speaking of the hairy musician who had such hits has the (Witches Promise) and not the inventor of the house drawn seed drill of the seventeen hundreds!
But ironically enough it was not the fact that he kept animals and birds that was so intriguing and first caught my attention but more his knowledge of music and the workings of the internal combustion engine two interests that has stayed with me throughout my entire life. And although I could not have known it at the time my other real interest in birds and Sparrowhawks in particular was yet to come, and in fact it was Fred’s but mainly my elder brother’s enthusiasm that lead to a life time obsession with this fabulous little hawk.
But of course the other children use to scream out do not go anywhere near ole Fred, he’s a mad man! Mind you so would you be if you had a gang of unruly children throwing stones at your house every day but the word on the street was ole Fred would come bursting out of cottage door waving his stick shouting at the top of his voice, go on clear off you limping heaps of brick dust and misery.
Because of the other children’s unruly behaviour getting to know Fred was not that easy, but Alan has the patience of a saint and was not the sort of chap that is easily put off by some strange looking recluse, then or indeed now! Besides he turned out to be a fountain of knowledge on “any subject” you care to mention for after all he was the very embodiment of the great professor of all there is to know. The inside of his cottage was very sparse just bare stone floors and a few chairs and a single table. An old broken-down upright piano stood in one corner of the main room and an acoustic guitar hung on the wall. Set into the wall was an old fashion black cooking range that Fred would cook his meals on, after first lighting the fire of course. Do you see that cooking range there Alan yes Fred, well there are devils living behind there, but Snapper knows how to deal with those unpleasant devils, Snapper being Fred’s Little Owl.
Sitting outside in one of the mews was a female Sparrowhawk and stranger still in one room inside his small cottage sat a female goshawk! This is not normal surly to have such a large fierce bird sitting inside one’s house but then this man was more than a little strange shall we say. Much later on I found out the reason why this bird was inside the house and I now know he was the most knowledgeable sparviter / austringer I have ever met in my entire life too without a shadow of a doubt. And interesting enough he used techniques to train these two hawks long since forgotten and not known by many of the modern austringers and sparviters of today. But despite this turn of events I was much more intrigued by the piece of sheet music entitled (You belong to me by Jo Stafford) that sat on the piano, which just happened to be one of my parents favourites tunes at the time. It was quite obviously ole Fred’s favourite song too for reasons I was to find out later.
You keep looking at my guitar Alan can you play, I can Fred and I would love to play your guitar; here you are then less play (You belong to me.) Fred’s singing voice was simply amazing and sounded not unlike some opera singer. I did my best to play along but the sight of Fred’s little owl bobbin its head up and down and then from side to side nuzzling the side of his head and snapping its beak in time with the music was just too funny for words to express. Although I tried my best to keep myself together I just could not stop laughing to myself for even then I was the proud possessor of an off the wall highly sensitive developed giggle box. But On finishing the song Fred looked up from the piano with a tear in his eye so what do think of the guitar, its great I said. It suits you Alan do take it home and enjoy it.
Wait just a minute! Perhaps the other boys were right after all; maybe he was a little bit strange nevertheless I ran all the way home up hill and down dell just in case he changed his mind and wanted the guitar back!
So after a few days had past I just had to ask, Fred! What are those devils behind your cooking range, why they are cockroaches Alan he explained along with a laugh that would send most people running for the door what did you think they were dear boy. As I left him sitting outside his little cottage playing his banjo he shouted back down the lane come back again tomorrow Alan and we will go a hawking. After that we went hawking or doing some other activity in the countryside every time I saw him and that went for another ten years in fact right up to the point when we left to move house for pastures new. The funny thing was he nearly always played the same tune on his five string banjo – (Foggy Mountain Breakdown) but it was not until years later that I learned the significance of this too. For even in his adversity this man kept a brilliant sense of humour, a truly remarkable man. On returning home though I went straight up stairs and wrote all the details down in my diary exactly the way father had taught me, for father insisted that I should write everything I did in a diary every day.
Anyway I was not home very long though before I heard mother’s voice come echoing down throughout the house, and where have you been all day Alan! So always being taught and willing to tell the truth I told her I have spent the day in a strange looking man’s cottage in fern grove, oh that is just Big Fred she said with a smile for just one minute I thought you were doing something dangerous like climbing trees again with that gang of misfits of yours. One more thing before you disappear again Alan take a very good look at my wedding photo on the piano, there amongst the group of guests was a very tall smartly dressed distinguished looking gentleman dressed in a white linen suit that looked somehow strangely familiar, good heavens above Big Fred! Just out of interest I asked mother if he was related to us in anyway, no Alan but he is your fathers’ best friend and so we chose him to be the best man at our wedding. Apparently he was passing through Goa anyway and so he kindly agreed to stop off and after the wedding he carried on with his very long journey and quest seeking out suitable people who would be willing to teach him the best ways of selecting and training hawks. And in the end he did spend quite a long time with these people studying their ways and methods. Thankfully he was able to speak quite a few language’s too so he had no trouble in that department. The more desolate and wilder the place the more it suited him, now who does that remind me of, as she turned and looked my way sporting a great big wide smile. Hmm not a bad idea this wandering I thought to myself one day Alan one day!
The very next day I was back at Fred’s little cottage once again, hawking again today Alan but angel and grip both love you now so do not worry will you. Let’s just say Fred’s idea of a dog taking a shine to you was so very different than what most people would expect! I will just fire up the old bone shaker first so you will not have to walk. Incidentally the old bone shaker turned out to be an old lorry angel a goshawk, and grip the vicious looking dog. You take grip and the ferret and I will take angel he said so off we went with Fred talking to himself as per usual while at the same time pulling some “very strange faces.” Although this goshawk had that fierce look about it that all goshawks have nothing could be further from the truth in fact this bird had such a placid temperament I wondered if it was ill or not but Fred assured me that it was far from ill, on the contrary this bird was “very efficient at its trade” as he put it. But what was I to know for I was only a young boy with next to no knowledge of hawks of course but even so it did strike me as very strange that these two hawks should be so well behaved. Especially the brute or angel as Fred called her but always being a very inquisitive sort of chap and one who should question every single thing (something taught to me by my father and number one on a list of four very important things that I should know) I felt I just had to ask, Fred how is it your hawks look so placid and behave so well, ask your father Alan I’ve given all my journals to him for when your older, it is a funny ole do my boy. Well quite frankly I just thought ole Fred was having another one of his funny turns again and quite why he would give these journals to my father struck me as somewhat odd, not long after very sadly I found out the reason why this was too.
Anyway I do not suppose any of you good people has ever sit between a goshawk and a vicious looking dog at least it looked vicious, but then again so did Fred but nevertheless it continued to eye me up and down and I must say I found it just a little unsettling. Not to mention sitting in a rusty battered old lorry with very little springs and a crash gearbox that nearly sent your spine out of the top your head every time he tried to change gear.
I could hardly hear Fred’s voice above the rattle and noise of the engine but I could tell by his facial expressions he was shouting in order to make himself heard. The secret is getting to know just when and how to double the clutch Alan, of course I do not think Fred had it quite right otherwise there would not have been one “awful crunch” every time he tried to change gear. And I do not mean the standard crunch that you get from a crash gearbox but something entirely different, very often sending me off my seat and leaving me floating in mid-air most of the time too!
Remind me to fill in those holes one day he said as he continued to shout while he bounced up and down in his seat while flashing his usual wicked smile my way all at the same time. But he still continued to drive quite fast down the old narrow lane whether I was floating in mid-air or not! But I now know there was no malice intended in his behaviour or his wicked smile but rather a look of excitement and thrill of someone who had learnt just how to take life by the scuff of the neck and milk it of every last drop. Yes it would seem that we both had found and recognised that kindred spirit that only two likeminded people could have.
My memory is not as good as it once was so thank goodness I wrote everything down but I do remember the last time I saw him as if it way only yesterday. For this particular morning I was up with the lark banging on ole Fred’s door. Morning Fred and how are you today, I do not feel so good this morning Alan and how are you dear boy, not so good either I have some bad news Fred apparently we are going to move house again so its pastures new again I suppose. Giving me one of his sad looks he then laid one hand upon my shoulder Alan he said you have been a good friend and I have really have enjoyed our time together, and for the second time since I knew him a tear appeared in his eye. Being emotional in other ways too was not really that unusual for Fred and he would often show it during the entire time I knew him. He then spoke just four more words, the same four I have since heard from other elderly people and have now come to recognise the meaning of, - I am feeling tired. Well as you probably have realised by this time I was becoming a little worried about his health and behaviour, I may well have been still young at the time and a little inexperienced about the ways of the world but I was old enough to know something was not quite right from overheard conversations between mother and father both being in the medical profession as a doctor and surgeon.
Years later I asked mother about Fred and his “very strange behaviour,” and a mysterious visitor that used to turn up from time to time and how did ole Fred come to have a finish goshawk that felt like it weighed a ton in the first place! What she told me must remain a secret for now I am afraid but I can say all the answers along with the rest of ole Fred’s very long eventful life story will be contained within my book and many others stories experienced during my wanderings in this country and abroad. But I can say the explanations to the whole affair and the mysterious visitor were far more involved and earth shattering then I could ever have possible imagined.
But as if those revelation was not earth shattering enough to take in for one day I was still not expecting the next revelation, did you know the poor sweet man suffered terribly during the Second World War coming home with severe post-traumatic stress disorder. And later he also suffered a “mental breakdown” too. As if that was not enough to endure he also suffered from physical injuries’ which he received during those years spent on the Burma “death railway.” Well I just stood there with an open mouth just staring at my mother as you can probably all imagine. She went on to explain that father and Fred served together in the army during the war only Fred was captured by the Japanese and forced to work on the death railway. For once in my life I was lost for words but suddenly everything became so very clear. Just what hellish demons ole Fred was forced to carry around with him one could only just imagine and there I was thinking he was just playing around in his happier moments for my benefit or just eccentric.
But many years have passed since those days and I am now very pleased to say goshawks are once again heard close to where he was living in the form of a breeding pair. Could one of these birds be a descendant of Fred’s goshawk I cannot think of a more fitting tribute to a man who spent half of his life caring for wildlife.
Yes Fred was a very clever man all right but he did get one thing “completely wrong” he thought I would want a hawk to train myself one day, when in fact I had and still have no interest in that particular activity whatsoever. But I suppose by given his travel journals to father he hoped I would make good use of them. But as I mentioned before I was “far more interested” in what he could teach me about the internal combustion engine and music, the latter being so very different from the very formal way being taught to me by my parents.
I recreated ole Fred’s journeys some years later and I must admit the charm and charismatic personality of the previous suave Englishman had not been forgotten by the people I met, well he was the professor of all there is to know so how could it have been. But that whole saga is yet another story and just as exciting if not more so than the whirling dervishes I saw.
And unsurprisingly he did teach me a great deal in the ten years I knew him about animals, birds, engines, music, and how to live off the land as well as a whole host of other things too, knowledge that for the most part was handed down through the generations. I still have his travel journals which explain and show in minute detail just how to train hawks and a lot more information on other things as well, including the psychology of the mind far too difficult and involved for me to understand. But it did go on to inspire two of my sons to become members of the medical profession, one even a psychiatrist all thanks to the written word and the power of those travel journals. It was just a sheer tragedy that ole Fred had to learn the hard way the depths that the human psyche can be driven to.
Hmm yes dear ole Big Fred I do not know who looked the fiercest in the end though him or his goshawk. But if ever a man had a heart of pure gold than surly it was him for he was the kindest most thoughtful person that one could possibly ever have the very good fortune to meet.
Mid-March, I parked some distance from the farm this morning in order to check out the old rookery. I do love rooks and crows the reason why is another whole story in its self but to some people both are noisy troublesome creatures but not to me. For as young boy I kept and nursed back to health most of the corvid family and believe me when I say no other family of birds represent the human condition, crows are crafty clever and can be “extremely affectionate,” rooks clever but spiteful having a very complex personality, jackdaws, jays, and magpies mischievous for the most part but guess what, I love them all.
I often hear them called the bogie man of the bird world as well normally by the very same people who misunderstand Sparrowhawks and their role in the grand scheme. Personally I have never believed this to be true. I guess it’s just down to plain ignorance why they are persecuted in the paranoid way they are. And it is all because they sometimes take the eggs and young of other birds during the nesting season. But I refuse to believe this makes any substantial dent in the populations as a whole and I am pleased to see that a new study agrees that the killing of Corvids is utterly pointless most of the time too. Besides some bird species such as Kestrels and little owls for instance rely on old carrion Crow’s and magpie nests in some area’s to use themselves, as old barns and suitable holes in trees are no longer as abundant as they once were. This is one of the reasons why I have made a concerted effort to provide nest boxes for these two particular species.
But I digress, looking out through the car window there was not a single soul in sight this morning for even the recreation ground was empty now when we were children we were always out playing games either that or building camps, bird watching, making music, or some such thing and what larks the four musketeers would get up to! For instance seeing who could be the fastest to climb up the highest tree and down again thinking about it now we must have been crazy, and indeed we were. For one day instead of climbing all the way down one of us Sid by name jumped the last six feet or so and each time the distance would get greater. And as I recall he had a crazy habit of swinging on branches too no matter how high or thin, so much so he soon earned the title – the daring young man on the flying trapeze.
However back to the job in hand for things in the little owl department have now started to develop and so the hard work now begins, but fortunately enough for me for the time being I can watch this pair all from the comfort of my car for the time being.
March the twenty eighth, singing and being “extremely affectionate” seems to be the name of the game; in fact I am beginning to wonder if they are ever going to stop. For in my experience little owls are very affectionate birds indeed and I am expecting the big event at some point too (egg laying) although I will not know for sure until the incubation period begins in earnest when the female will disappear. The male will then enter the nest site itself with his little food parcels.
Mid-April, time to put up the tent once again and so it begins!
May, exciting stuff this and since my birding patch as increased somewhat in size from last year I now have eight breeding pairs of Sparrowhawk as well, plus other breeding raptors or so Claire my wife tells me. Without her help in the last few months or indeed throughout the years I would have been unaware and would have missed many events especially in times like this when I am permanently glued to this one small area.
Eight pair of breeding Sparrowhawks I hear you cry, yes indeed but suffice to say most of their food requirements are not coming from the countryside here as it once did but from the surrounding villages. In fact the large wood where my brother and I first found our first nest many years ago no longer supports the diverse wildlife as it once did, most of it gone in the wink of an eye, or so it would seem.
June, four young little owls are now showing themselves and being very vocal as one might expect and now both parents are extremely busy keeping up with their incessant demands. My daily notes are beginning to fill up my rather large note book as you may imagine but it is well worth it and I cannot recommend it highly enough no matter what your particular interest is, as they will also become invaluable to you in years to come too.
Mid-August, yes they are still here providing me with still more notes but I expect in the next couple of weeks or so they will be gone to hopefully find their own territory. And as for my wife’s observations well her notes are making yet another contribution to my growing file to be typed up and printed off which means still more work, who ever said retirement brought boredom was clearly not correct!
A wandering minstrel’s diary
I do not know when your diary entries began dear reader for every nature enthusiast should keep notes or a diary. Mine started at a very early age as I mentioned previously on the suggestion of father, and what a simply splendid suggestion it turned out to be. But like most events in life certain events stick out and are recalled more easily than others, especially as one grows older! So just to add one last one, picture if you can a beautiful summer’s day the sound of bees buzzing and the sight of king fisher’s flying up and down a small stream running through the idyllic romantic setting of a country meadow. A pair of kestrels were nesting in the village church tower behind me one constantly calling as I and my beautiful long brown haired little darling sit on the high bank of the stream just watching the world go by.
On one corner of this meandering stream a family of little owls were being fed in a pollarded willow, for this was my very first introduction to a breeding pair of little owls and their bobbing dome shaped heads. But this was also when the world was young, and so was I. The pace of life was slower, the summer months seemed endless, and all seemed well in my happy world, ah memories halcyon days indeed.
Just to our right hand side stood a small chicken farm the scattered chicken houses dotted out across the field. With the chickens of course came mice and rats, wild rabbits played in these fields with foxes, stoats, and on occasions the odd weasel. No doubt a great headache to the famer but these in turn brought kestrels and three species of owls, tawny owl, and barn owl, and little owl, nature in balance I like to think. And in the summer evenings simply thousands of cockchafers filled the sweet barmy air all food for the resident little owl pair of course. Which now reminds me the last time I saw any cockchafers in any numbers at all must have been years ago.
An old disused lime pit stood in one corner of the farmers’ field long since over- grown with shrubs and small trees, tree sparrows nested there along with turtle doves, their purring calls filling the thick summer air. In the other corner of the field sheltered by a few small trees a small duck pond, complete with ducks and moorhens. And still further out in this small field a very large heap of straw and manure to some no doubt an untidy smelly mess. But this particular jewelled attraction was just that for all sorts of creatures, and was to me just sheer magic being still only a young boy.
This was also one of the places I checked out for little owls last summer but guess what, all these things are now gone! The land having been sold and developed into an up market concreted gated housing estate. The beautiful meadow no longer existed and neither did the chicken farm, no owls, tree sparrows, turtle doves king fishers or indeed any of the things I mentioned previously. The year before revealed a similar scene when I returned to my former home; the only thing left was a very small trickle of water in an over- grown stream. Another funny ole do altogether if you ask me but as ever Alan is still “reviewing the whole situation.”
But what will I be doing come September, well I know what I plan to do but sometimes things do not always turn out the way one would like them to, or to quote Troy Tempest, “anything can happen in the next half hour.”
And there is of course my buzzards I have been meaning to start a study on them ever since they first arrived these have produced offspring every year which interest me too hmm so much to do and so little time, I often use to take the short cut though the nearby plantation where the male buzzard was quite often seen still hunting taking young woodpigeon from their nests and grey squirrels too believe it or not in fact from what I could make out grey squirrels being a preference for this one particular male bird.
The speed and the manoeuvrability of this bird was simply amazing flying through the wood dodging branches with enough panache to rival a Sparrowhawk, well almost! Who ever said these birds were slow and lazy creatures had it completely wrong when needs must they can really move take it from me. All this prey was destined for the female and her chicks of course waiting on the nest down in buzzard wood.
Still I think I better call this post long enough and call it a day for now dear reader, but if anyone is wondering about the four important things that every young man should know I have placed them towards the end of the music section.
Alan the wandering minstrel