Kestrel days

 Although I began by feeding the Barn Owls, the Kestrels quickly realised there was a good thing going on at the farm and dovetailed into the proceedings. I've no idea how long I have fed this family but they are as constant and endearing to me as the owls themselves and, as with the owls, I have watched their behaviour over the year for long enough to know what will happen next.

Daddy Kestrel is, of course, my favourite. He flies in for breakfast each morning but has also learned to fly in after dark and is usually the first to take a chick from the shed roof before the owls have barely gathered. I first realised that something was amiss this summer when, one evening, his deadly accuracy failed him.Instead of alighting on the zinc he crashed clumsily at my feet and lay on his back in the inky dusk staring helplessly up at me. It was then I noticed that he wasn't able to carry the food I left up to his usual high points such as the nest box roof or the shed vent. Instead he flew low, labouring, barely managing to reach the bales and would sit vulnerably wherever he could to sate his hunger. 

It was useful to know that vole numbers were low. I guessed that he was either weak with hunger or an old injury from two summers ago was affecting him. I knew could do little about the injury but I could help with food. I walked down four times a day, leaving food each time and reassuringly he flew in each time. It was then I noticed that his mate would immediately take the food from him. Her main concern was feeding her quickly growing brood but with scarce pickings this was seriously weakening him. I was persistent. I continued to feed throughout the day, whistling him in and watching to make sure he got at least a little something and very slowly, over the days, his condition improved and it couldn't have come at a better time as his family were ready to fledge.

I heard them first, though  they hunkered down on my approach, an excited chittering emanated from the nest box which told me they would soon leave the nest box. One Sunday morning I found that in the excitement of anticipating breakfast it had been just too much and one had been jostled from their nest high in the shed eaves. It was too young to fly but too fast to catch and spent the day cavorting around the straw stack. There was little chance of disturbance and I felt confident should it find a safe roost for the night, that in a day or two it would fly and hopefully rejoin its family. 

Yet the quiet of the farmyard was about to be shattered as the following day the farmers had planned to cut the hay. In one sense this was good as it meant that the young kestrel would have plenty of food to find while the voles ran for cover and it would be less susceptible to a fox with the clear fields, but it did mean it could easily get caught up in the busy machinery. I was in school so all I could do was keep my fingers crossed and hope it stayed safe. 

By teatime the following day the hay was laying in neat rows across the grass field and the young kestrel had been joined by all three of its siblings. I'm not sure whether the extra activity had sent them all scattering out from the nest box in a panic or whether they really were ready to fledge, but there they were, hopping and jumping aimlessly around the field. The adults behaviour was predictable. They completely disappeared from view with the aim of not drawing attention to their young family. I did however see them when any other bird of prey appeared. Both the male and the female would appear as if from nowhere and fly ferociously at them, persisting until the interloper was clear of the farm. I watched one of the young owls receive this treatment and also a Red Kite get hounded away. They were devoted parents and  I willed nothing to go wrong after all their hard work so far.

There was one memorable morning when I walked down to the farm to find all four sitting on a piece of farm machinery close to the nest box but after a couple of days, the clueless youngsters disappeared completely. I searched for them as |I walked down for my dog walk but saw nothing and seriously began to wonder if we had lost them, but before the hay was baled up and carted away I realised that as soon as they could fly they had hidden up in the ash trees along the farm border. It was the perfect hideaway, close to the farm to keep them safe from predators yet hidden away from humans too. Gradually over the next few days they began calling to the parent birds as they flew in for food. The parents waited until I was into the next field before they took the food up to their family but it was reassuring to know they were safe and well.

This year's fledging hasn't involved much raucous chasing and squabbling over the food. I watched the family as, first they hunted the open grass field and then they waited for me at various points across the farm yard itself. They flew confidently very quickly and still I often see them hovering and chittering excitedly as I approach. Some of them take food from the platform themselves while others steal from the others. Its great to stand at the bottom of the field and watch them. Usually they begin to leave the farm after a couple of weeks, but with less voles this year they seem to be staying close and I have decided to feed them until they stop flying in. 

Their plumage is developing now from the flecked brown that all fledglings sport, and showing their adult plumage. The males are developing their grey/blue heads and wings while the females are losing their fluffiness and their wings and tails are elongating. As I walk the fields in the intense July sunshine, two of them take flight from the field ahead and fly in a southerly direction towards a neighbouring farm, and disappear out of sight. Its an odd feeling watching them, wanting them to spread their wings but also wanting them to stay close and safe. Kestrels only have one brood of youngsters each year unlike the owls who are already caring for their second broods. I will enjoy watching these youngsters as the summer burns on.

Who's who?

 I love working out exactly where the owls are nesting. I have so many questions. Where from the six nest sites have the owls chosen to rear their babies this year? Do we still have two pairs? Can I recognise any of the adult birds and is our beloved adult female still with us after fourteen years?

I am astonished to find that our first pair of owls have chosen the chimney to nest in this year. This happened about seven years back when the owls had a second brood but I am amazed that they chose this rather unusual site when other more suitable boxes were available. I had noticed an owl waiting on the house aerial and seen them flying back and forth so I hid behind the barley store and sure enough both male and female were seen busily ferrying food into the farm house chimney. The fireplace is disused and I assume there is a wide shelf that works perfectly for the owls. I do wonder if the other pair which are braver had perhaps intimidated the more reserved birds which had encouraged them to nest further away. They have been lucky that the weather has been settled too as I assume that rain won't go down the chimney but the dry, settled spring certainly has certainly benefited them. As I watch the bird that sits patiently on the aerial I realise that this is indeed our old female. The way she sits and holds her head slightly to the side, her patience and quiet confidence convince me that she is still with us and I am excited to think she is rearing another brood.

                                                           (over exposed but I like it!)

I watch the second pair avidly too. I also recognise this female. She is the very dark bird from last year. I hadn't noticed her during the winter and assumed we had lost her but she is quite obvious as she glides in the half light. She flies to greet me and circles low and keen before dismissing me with a flick of her wing tips. She is also usually the first to fly in for me, hitting the shed with a dull thud before flying away with the food. One evening I waited in the shadow of the shed to see where she headed to when she thought I had left. I watched as two adults ferry food up to west nest box. I am ashamed to say that this one is held together with baling twine and owl dropping, another unsuitable site, at least in my eyes. Having been used by second broods last autumn it was occupied as a roost all winter and although we knew it needed mending, the owls beat us to it. It will hold up I am sure but it isn't ideal. I continue to watch the box closely and am delighted to see these two fluffy youngsters sunning themselves one morning in the porch

Daddy Kestrel is also keen now that his female is sitting and he braves the owls after dark much to their annoyance. The Little Owls have also returned and can be spotted across the farm waiting patiently too. If you told me that these serious little birds hibernated each winter I would believe you as they are never seen but come summer I spot them readily. I see them in trees, perched on machinery and in the dutch barn eaves. They too have their own nest box and also use the straw.The farm is busy and I am in my element.

By mid May, however, something changes. The owls keenness hints at desperation. They now fly incredibly close to me and fly to the nest sites regardless of my presence. There is a tension between the two pairs too. I begin to wonder if the dry spring is actually now having an adverse affect on the owls. Voles eat young grass shoots and we haven't had more than a few milllimetres of rain since March.No rain will mean no fresh grass shoots which I assume could impact the voles breeding. I watch the owls that are now hunting by daytime and despite keenly observing them I don't see them hunt successfully. I then receive a message from one of the local owl ringers that confirms my fears. Whilst out checking nest sites locally recently he found nothing. No owls and certainly no eggs. His inquiries countrywide seemed to indicate a similar picture elsewhere. Last year was a good vole year which is always followed by a slump and it seems the dry weather is impacting this situation too.

This was valuable information for me and I increased the food I left for the owls. It benefited the kestrels too. I noticed that daddy Kestrel was having trouble flying. He was fine as he flew in but couldn't get any lift once he took a chick. He seemed either weak or injured. I put out extra food through the day and noticed his mate stealing the food from him time and time again. As their box is high in the eaves I think she was taking it from him for the youngsters but this wasn't helping his dire situation. I am now taking food again and again and I do believe he is improving. This morning he flew into the straw with his breakfast and tonight he waited on the platform to eat but when an owl flew too close he managed to  get high up onto the shed vent. These feisty little falcons will need both parents to fledge successfully and I will do my upmost to help them through these lean times.

Midweek we had 28 mm of rain. Both man and nature needed this soaking and I walked out in the rain reveling in the freshness of it all. Lets hope this will encourage the new growth and make things easier for the owls and kestrels as their families continue to grow and flourish.

Patterns

 After fourteen years of feeding the owls there are reliable patterns in their behaviour that I see as the year progresses and these patterns are most obvious in the spring. It's reassuring and satisfying to anticipate the owl's next move as it tells me that all is well with them and reminds me of the many happy years I've already enjoyed watching them.

As soon as the new year begins the adult birds begin to re-establish their bonds. They spend longer at the nest site, preening and fussing each other. Up until now they have been tolerant of their Autumn broods but this very quickly changes and as I walk out each evening I can hear the adult birds screeching at the youngsters and showing a real animosity towards them. Whilst it sounds alarming it is also almost comical to watch these young birds as they continue to fly in and face the rage of their parents. I've stood for many evenings this spring as a young Barn Owl careers out of the yard with a day old chick in its talons. Initially these youngsters stay close. I watched one hunting the busy bank within a few hundred yards of the farm ,whilst another roosted in a disused stable. Eventually they must get tired of running the gauntlet each night and, as the weather improves they disperse further afield. I miss their antics.

The next thing I notice is that the females are far less noticeable as they spend more time at their chosen nest site. The males continue to fly bravely in and sometimes take food in to the females but the females continue to show briefly even after they have laid eggs. Our Barn Owls usually lay their first eggs in early March. We work this out when the owlets fledge, counting back the thirty to thirty-two days it takes for an egg to hatch and adding on the sixty-three days it takes from an owl to hatch until they fledge. Last year's owlets appeared on the 20th May which meant the first egg was laid late February. From March this year I noticed our females far less. They recognised my whistling and knew food was left when they heard me depart. It was an easy option to leave their precious eggs and pop out for the food and I played my part by leaving the farm quickly and quietly.

Once the owlets hatch the adult owl's behaviour changes again. Now the owls are far more secretive and for a while I barely see them at all. It is of utmost importance that they safeguard the location of their nests and that includes keeping it secret from me too. We have six possible sites that the owls could use and I watch them all avidly for clues. Furthest away is the beehive box which, as its name suggests, is close to my beehives. It is the oddest shape, like a small house with a covered porch. The inspection hatch is too small and often blocked with debris but the owls love it. It is a quiet corner of the farm surrounded by trees and always a popular choice. Next is a box that was gifted to us and situated in the walnut tree. It should be popular but as yet, the owls haven't used it. It is however, popular with squirrels and not wasted at all. Next is the farmhouse itself. It has two large and disused chimneys which the Jackdaws have used and as such have the perfect platform for our owls to use. The chimneys have the advantage of not being accessible and so there is no fear of interference.There is, however, the worry of owlets falling down the chimney itself. Heading across the yard we next come to the combine shed, as I call it although the farmers know it as the hay barn. An older box that was taken down from the dutch barn was considered too good to scrap and so was popped inside this disused shed and it quickly became a favourite site which is used for first or second broods every year. Finally, there are two boxes on the dutch barn, both facing south onto the grass field.They are tucked up high in the eaves and are the original nest sites having been used for nearly thirty years now. East nest box is. on the eastern corner of the barn while west nest box is obviously on the western corner.  This dutch barn also houses a Little Owl box on the western side and a Kestrel box on the eastern side, both of which are used each year. It is a very  busy building and where I feed too.

After a couple of weeks of quiet as the owlets grow and become hungrier, I notice other familiar signs. The owls begin to hunt during the daytime, especially after wet or windy weather. This is a real treat for me as our owls rarely need to hunt by day at any other time and I love seeing them gracefully quartering the grass. They also start to show more keenly again at feeding time although they are still careful not to visit the nest sites until I leave. I watch eagerly to see where they go and listen carefully for the urgent hissing that tells me there are owlets close by.  I currently have no idea who is where or how many owlets they may have but I am watching closely and enjoying every moment.

Winter wonders

 The Fens are at their best in the winter. I tend to think that these big skies and vast open spaces are best appreciated during the colder months when the greys and browns of reeds and rushes are backlit by the setting sun. We are also lucky enough to have a myriad of winter migrants join us across these flat fields and among them are the Short-eared owls.

I adore watching these birds. They appear as if from nowhere, flapping those huge wings in an almost lazy fashion, and meandering from side to side. Facially they are beautiful with ear tufts that give them their name and the most remarkable yellow eyes that are lined with a smokey darkness and indicate that these owls are diurnal and hunt at dawn and dusk.

We've always had Short-eared owls on the farm. My late brother in law often told me how they disturbed them from the tussocky grass each winter when the dykes and ditches were dredged and cleared. In more recent times my son remembers going for a run and having one of these beauties fly alongside him, and so of course, each winter when I walk across the fields I keep a keen eye out for them.

I first saw them this year in October. They are clever birds, and always one step ahead of me. My first sighting was close to the straw stack when an owl was hunting from the parked up digger. It flew in front of me as I walked making sure I was always a suitable distance away. If it landed on the dyke side, it was immediately hidden, if it watched me from the field I had to keep an eye on it or it would have blended in against the dark clay. We walked a complete circuit of the field like this with the owl tantalisingly close but always a safe distance away until it ended up where it began, perched on the digger bucket and I left it to hunt in peace.

After this first encounter I saw Short-eared owls on a regular basis. I say owls because there were at least two hunting the field borders and margins. They would suddenly lift up from the dyke edge and fly ahead of me. It seemed that when I walked without my camera they would fly close and perch nearby yet when I took my camera down with me they either never appeared or simply stayed two fields away. They quickly became my nemesis this year making me even more determined to capture a good photo before the winter was through.

However before too long my owl watching was interrupted by more of our winter migrants. First the Whooper swans came to feed upon the sugar beet that had been harvested next to the farm quickly followed by pink footed geese. Although we have been lucky enough to have the swans for a number of years, pink footed geese were a new species for us and they were impressive as they numbered a few hundred. I loved watching them swirl in each morning and the sound they made was incredible. Whether it was swans or geese it meant that I walked a different route in order not to disturb them. This meant that for the majority of the winter I also avoided the best area for the Short-eared owls. I do however remember one memorable occasion when the geese took flight and as I busied myself taking shots of the action a Short-eared owl flew up from the grass right in front of me. My camera was set wrong and all I could do was gaze in awe as it flapped across the field and disappeared over the hedge

The swans have flown now, the geese have too I suppose and so, during late February and into March I have kept a look out for the owls. I know that they will also soon be leaving for the moors and I rather hoped for that photo. My last sighting was on March 5th when I suddenly realised an owl was hunting from a post just a few metres away but since then, nothing. That was until this afternoon when I took an impromptu walk across the grass field and Max put up a Short-eared owl that flew over onto the ploughed field to watch us indignantly. As we walked closer it flew across two fields and watched us from the hedgerow. The sun was beautiful so I decide to take Max home and return with my camera. I was only absent for five minutes but in that time the owl had returned to the rough grass and I had missed my chance. Rather than risk disturbing it a second time I returned home.

There was, however, a winner in the whole affair. When I left Max at our house I gave him his tea. Before I returned Rob arrived home and Max asked for his tea again. Much to his delight was given a second one. I am sure he will be hoping the Short-eared owls stay just a little longer.

The Magnificent Seven.

 The hardest thing about caring for something is the letting go and that is where we currently are with the owls. These youngsters fledged the nest in September and have been lucky enough to stay on site through winter and this winter here in the Fens this year has been tough. We've had our usual share of storms but this season its the harsh temperatures that have made things particularly difficult. Last year, I could count the frosty mornings we had on one hand. This year, since Christmas, we have had two or three each week. Although we've not had so much rain, we have had misty weather which leave the grass as soggy as rainfall and makes hunting tricky. As February progresses, the weather is not yet improving but the lengthening days mean the adults are thinking of pairing up and these young owls will soon be leaving.

Owl feeding in January is my very favourite time of the year. Because of the conditions they are super keen and show really well. I am regularly met by seven owls flying low over and perching on the sheds waiting for me. They fly out of the open sheds during the worst weather and circle between the dutch barn and the combine shed. They come out of the straw and wait in the various trees nearly out of reach of my torch. They've even taken to waiting on the farm house itself either using the chimney or the television aerial as their vantage point. 

My oldest female always flies in first. She knows me so well she doesn't fly away however close I walk to her and when I throw the first handful of food onto the shed roof, I wait for the familiar "clunk" that tells me she has taken her share. If not. I end up hitting her with handfuls of day old chicks as she is unbelievably keen. Once I've moved over to the second feeding platform which is about ten metres away the other adults fly in too. The youngsters are distinguished by their reluctance to come too close and fly back and forth willing me to leave. Once I've walked towards the grain store I can see them flying in, wings held high and talons outstretched,to take the food off to their roosts. 

But just as signs of spring begin to appear there are subtle changes in the owl's behaviour. There is certainly more screeching occurring at feeding time. I assume this is the adults warning the youngsters that this is their patch and they are welcome for just a short while longer but it could also be the youngsters testing their maturity. With the atmosphere being far less amenable now and I begin to notice more movement from the young owls. One is beginning to roost in empty sheds close by, still close enough to visit the farm but certainly off site. Another is often to be seen along the river hunting the deep sides and waiting on the fence posts as it hunts for itself. I see another flying close to the road during rush hour, flying haphazardly back and forth among the traffic. I hear myself muttering to it to head back to the safety of the farm and find myself slowing down to slow the rest of the traffic too. Later that evening I make a detour on a journey to check for casualties, and when I feed I am relieved to see my magnificent seven fly in as usual, however, the incident stays with me.

I've protected these beautiful birds all winter. I've provided food and shelter but now, despite what I want to happen, nature will take control. Their instincts will take over and they will look for territories of their own. Its incredibly hard to know that they face so many uncertainties as they brave the wider world. As I drive across Fenland and see an owl hunting I will always wonder whether it is "one of mine." When the weather closes in I will think of them hungry and when I see larger birds hunting the dykes and ditches I will think of my much slighter owls coming up against such opposition. But it is not all doom and gloom. I imagine them pairing up with a mate and rearing a family and of them finding a territory as safe and accommodating as our farm. In these times of transition I am truly proud that they have found their wings.

Winter owls.

 2025 will be my fourteenth year of feeding the owls on our farm. I still vividly remember that first winter when I walked down in all weathers, when snow covered the bales and danced in my torchlight and when more than one storm buffeted the yard from all directions and sent me tumbling home to the warmth of the wood burner.

My project may not have got to its fourteenth year had I not decided to stay back one evening the following spring to realise that, once they thought I had left, owls appeared from all directions to take the food I'd given them. It was a breathtaking discovery to find that they were so close by and so quick to fly in. 

I adore walking down each evening but each season gifts me something a little different and despite it being the coldest and most inhospitable time to walk, late winter is often the most rewarding. The harsh conditions mean that the owls are keenest. They wait in the trees for me. If I am late they fly down the road towards me and my whistling call sends them spiraling upwards from the farm buildings. The youngsters from the autumn brood have been allowed to stay in situ through the worst of the weather and I have fun picking out which ones are the youngsters and which are our established adults.Our oldest female waits upon the shed roof and is always first to fly in. I'm not sure if she is bravest and showing the others it is safe to take the food or whether there is some sort of pecking order that means she gets first choice of the offerings. The situation here is so unusual it is difficult to tell which scenario is most likely.

The youngsters wait further away in the trees to the east and the west. I make sure there will be enough food for these inexperienced birds as they arguably need it the most. I feel a tenderness towards these beauties as they fly back and forth, willing me to leave so they too can take their share of the food. They do not know that within weeks they will be ousted and looking for territories of their own. When this happens, on every trip across the fens, I will be keenly watching for them. When I see Barn Owls ghosting the ditches and road sides, I will be wondering if each one was one of the beauties I've been lucky enough to watch all winter.

Sometimes they are keener than others.They'll be hungrier after wind and rain but over the years I have come to recognise that they fly in the bravest when rain is building. This week four birds flew in within touching distance, taking the food before I had chance to step away. It is breathtaking and humbling and awe-inspiring to be in the company of owls such as these.

I have no idea what 2025 will bring. Will the weather be kind to the owls? Will our adults avoid the numerous hazards and stay safe? Will their be plenty of prey to sustain their broods and how many owlets will we rear? One thing is sure, I will show up for these birds each evening and help them when I can. Thank you for being part of my journey too.