Biancone
to err is human
(north Apennines, two weeks ago...)
The Honey-buzzards having all gone south, I was out for an end-of-season walk in the woods with nothing special in mind beyond the ever-present desire to get a good long look at a Goshawk. The odds are very much against this. Goshawk breed here, but they seem to spend almost the entire summer below or within the forest canopy. Among several "possible Goshawk" have been just a handful of confirmed sightings, including a male carrying prey to a nearby nest and leaving shortly after. Yes, that's the frustrating part: I've found a local Goshawk nest, but apart from a visit in spring to look for fresh greenery on the nest, and another in July hoping for signs of young, I keep away from the site to avoid disturbance (they are hyper-vigilant so I visit on a very windy day, when the treetops are moving and footsteps in the forest litter are masked by the roar of the wind through the canopy). I've thought about a hide but don't want to attract attention.
Today I headed back home via the Gos nest site, thinking that now the young have long since fledged, I'd have a look around the ground under the nest tree in case I could find any moulted feathers or prey remains. No feathers this year, but there was a mammal skull (a cat, I think, probably one of the several semi-ferals that spread out from the villages). There was a large hole at the base of the skull. I carried on home taking my usual route through the hill woodland, wondering if the cat was Goshawk prey or if another predator had by chance left it near the nest tree. Then, when about 250 metres from the nest tree, idly speculating about what the usual prey may be here, and where the post-nesting adults are now, a large bird suddenly came up from the ground a few metres away, partly hidden by branches and creepers, and almost instantly was gone (first photo shows the area). It happened so fast, initially only a vague grey blur, but my brain managed to generate one imprecise image a split second before the bird disappeared behind vegetation. Big, approaching buzzard size; a hint of a dark grey and a white stripe along the head; hint of barring in the tail; flash of white somewhere near the tail base; looking medium-dark grey overall, somewhat variegated and with a brownish tinge. The large size was the main feature. Different colour, different proportions, but approaching Common Buzzard in size. No question it was a Goshawk, probably an adult female, and quite likely the one that used the nearby nest.
Given that the bird came up from the ground, it seemed likely that I had disturbed it while on prey, and sure enough, a metre or two up the slope were the remains of a small mammal. A still-warm dormouse in fact, which, on the basis of colour and tail shape, was a Fat or Edible Dormouse (now Glis glis again). This strongly arboreal species is noted for laying down fat during autumn before hibernation, so would presumably be a valuable food source for a Goshawk needing to improve its nutritional status after breeding and before winter (but would only be available when active). In a long-term study of Goshawk in the central Apennines by Penteriani (1997, here...), this species formed 12% of prey biomass. The head and forelimbs were missing, presumably consumed, although the two halves of the mandible and the upper jaw, neatly dissected from the cranium, were discarded to one side. A considerable amount of grey-white fur was scattered around the remains (second photo).
So, a close but fleeting sight of a Goshawk rather than a "good long look", but more importantly, a fascinating glimpse into part of the bird's daily life in the woodland! Sooner or later I'll get a good long look at a Gos soaring or displaying, but it's sure to be some time before I see one on the ground again. My only regret is that I accidentally made the bird leave a good meal; I hope she returned to the kill after I left.
Penteriani V. 1997. Long-term study of a Goshawk breeding population on a Mediterranean mountain (Abruzzi Apennines, Central Italy): density, breeding performance and diet. Journal of Raptor Research 31: 308–312
The Honey-buzzards having all gone south, I was out for an end-of-season walk in the woods with nothing special in mind beyond the ever-present desire to get a good long look at a Goshawk. The odds are very much against this. Goshawk breed here, but they seem to spend almost the entire summer below or within the forest canopy. Among several "possible Goshawk" have been just a handful of confirmed sightings, including a male carrying prey to a nearby nest and leaving shortly after. Yes, that's the frustrating part: I've found a local Goshawk nest, but apart from a visit in spring to look for fresh greenery on the nest, and another in July hoping for signs of young, I keep away from the site to avoid disturbance (they are hyper-vigilant so I visit on a very windy day, when the treetops are moving and footsteps in the forest litter are masked by the roar of the wind through the canopy). I've thought about a hide but don't want to attract attention.
Today I headed back home via the Gos nest site, thinking that now the young have long since fledged, I'd have a look around the ground under the nest tree in case I could find any moulted feathers or prey remains. No feathers this year, but there was a mammal skull (a cat, I think, probably one of the several semi-ferals that spread out from the villages). There was a large hole at the base of the skull. I carried on home taking my usual route through the hill woodland, wondering if the cat was Goshawk prey or if another predator had by chance left it near the nest tree. Then, when about 250 metres from the nest tree, idly speculating about what the usual prey may be here, and where the post-nesting adults are now, a large bird suddenly came up from the ground a few metres away, partly hidden by branches and creepers, and almost instantly was gone (first photo shows the area). It happened so fast, initially only a vague grey blur, but my brain managed to generate one imprecise image a split second before the bird disappeared behind vegetation. Big, approaching buzzard size; a hint of a dark grey and a white stripe along the head; hint of barring in the tail; flash of white somewhere near the tail base; looking medium-dark grey overall, somewhat variegated and with a brownish tinge. The large size was the main feature. Different colour, different proportions, but approaching Common Buzzard in size. No question it was a Goshawk, probably an adult female, and quite likely the one that used the nearby nest.
Given that the bird came up from the ground, it seemed likely that I had disturbed it while on prey, and sure enough, a metre or two up the slope were the remains of a small mammal. A still-warm dormouse in fact, which, on the basis of colour and tail shape, was a Fat or Edible Dormouse (now Glis glis again). This strongly arboreal species is noted for laying down fat during autumn before hibernation, so would presumably be a valuable food source for a Goshawk needing to improve its nutritional status after breeding and before winter (but would only be available when active). In a long-term study of Goshawk in the central Apennines by Penteriani (1997, here...), this species formed 12% of prey biomass. The head and forelimbs were missing, presumably consumed, although the two halves of the mandible and the upper jaw, neatly dissected from the cranium, were discarded to one side. A considerable amount of grey-white fur was scattered around the remains (second photo).
So, a close but fleeting sight of a Goshawk rather than a "good long look", but more importantly, a fascinating glimpse into part of the bird's daily life in the woodland! Sooner or later I'll get a good long look at a Gos soaring or displaying, but it's sure to be some time before I see one on the ground again. My only regret is that I accidentally made the bird leave a good meal; I hope she returned to the kill after I left.
Penteriani V. 1997. Long-term study of a Goshawk breeding population on a Mediterranean mountain (Abruzzi Apennines, Central Italy): density, breeding performance and diet. Journal of Raptor Research 31: 308–312