halftwo
Wird Batcher
With apologies to David Smith.
As I was writing Part Two in the garden (well I'm not going to go in today am I?) I realize everything has gone silent. Not quiet. Silent. Even the Magpies have stopped their chatter. This is very different; no raptor warrants silence here; not normally.
Above me - & I mean right above me - a female Peregrine circles maybe 25 metres overhead. I can see her huge feet, I can see her eye she's that close!
Drifting with the lazy air & always rising she continues south. A Kestrel follows her, much lower.
Below the farmer is turning the hay. If that Partridge flushes now...
Higher & higher & more distant she climbs, then suddenly, she turns. All laziness shakes off her. She begins a shallow stoop, whipping her wings to accelerate. My eyes & my heart follow suit.
Then I see her prey.
Its another Kestrel! Possibly the sibling of the other, lower bird. For weeks they have been aerially jousting with each other. I wonder if the practice will have been enough.
This Kestrel has strayed too high. There is nowhere to hide in the wide & empty air. The Peregrine streaks towards it.
Again & again the larger predator attacks, each time the Kestrel manages to jink out of reach; the Peregrine is really going for it, this is no mock-fight, she is going for the kill.
Climbing higher each time to renew the attack the two birds are often so close that the end seems foretold; yet the Kestrel manages to keep just out of reach.
This goes on. My arms are screaming with the effort of holding on to them, my heart pounding with the spectacle.
At last they go out of sight, the Kestrel still intact.
Once again I'm aware of birdsong, the world returns. Two Blackcaps tick tack over a Chiffchaff's song.
I'm going in before something else happens. No-one will believe any more!
H
As I was writing Part Two in the garden (well I'm not going to go in today am I?) I realize everything has gone silent. Not quiet. Silent. Even the Magpies have stopped their chatter. This is very different; no raptor warrants silence here; not normally.
Above me - & I mean right above me - a female Peregrine circles maybe 25 metres overhead. I can see her huge feet, I can see her eye she's that close!
Drifting with the lazy air & always rising she continues south. A Kestrel follows her, much lower.
Below the farmer is turning the hay. If that Partridge flushes now...
Higher & higher & more distant she climbs, then suddenly, she turns. All laziness shakes off her. She begins a shallow stoop, whipping her wings to accelerate. My eyes & my heart follow suit.
Then I see her prey.
Its another Kestrel! Possibly the sibling of the other, lower bird. For weeks they have been aerially jousting with each other. I wonder if the practice will have been enough.
This Kestrel has strayed too high. There is nowhere to hide in the wide & empty air. The Peregrine streaks towards it.
Again & again the larger predator attacks, each time the Kestrel manages to jink out of reach; the Peregrine is really going for it, this is no mock-fight, she is going for the kill.
Climbing higher each time to renew the attack the two birds are often so close that the end seems foretold; yet the Kestrel manages to keep just out of reach.
This goes on. My arms are screaming with the effort of holding on to them, my heart pounding with the spectacle.
At last they go out of sight, the Kestrel still intact.
Once again I'm aware of birdsong, the world returns. Two Blackcaps tick tack over a Chiffchaff's song.
I'm going in before something else happens. No-one will believe any more!
H