Rob Smallwood
Well-known member
As ever I'll be out of the country for the best part of this tale. Fingers crossed for a succesful outcome, I'll be monitoring from afar!
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Hobby Thread 2010 (1 Viewer)
- Thread starter halftwo
- Start date
halftwo
Wird Batcher
Up In The Gale
A return later saw the female sitting near her nest, angled to the wind. It's so cold I'm wearing my winter hat - and decided on a short walk to warm up.
Farming activity yonder brought my attention out west, where I saw a Buzzard in the busy air, circling. It had attention from a Hobby too. The falcon was looping rapidly around it, using the wind to whip arcs at the buteo, harrying the big bird, though it was a thousand yards from the nest.
Leaving the Buzzard he headed into the gale, rising through the slipstream powerfully, a salmon swimming up white water, going for the grey above him. Soon he dissolved into the cloud.
A few clouds later he was back, passing his prey to his mate, who, as usual, had flown to greet and grab. She took the bird to the nest tree to prepare it for the young. But a Crow had been watching.
The corvid came in, dangling in the breeze above her, watching, closing. She left her meal and headed for her tormentor, screaming as she flew at the Crow. The male, leaving his more distant tree streaked in to assist, and before long the Crow had been repulsed. She returned to the cached bird.
Some seconds later she was making her way to the male who had returned to his further tree - still calling at him. Had the prey been given to young? Had the Crow's attentions meant it had been lost? Whichever it was she continued to beg from her mate - but he remained near her, watching Swifts go by.
Briefly the sun came out. For five minutes butterflies appeared and flitted the hedgerows, amongst them Purple hairstreaks spiralled manically around oak fronds: with the fleeting sun, a brief opportunity to fly.
Away in their tree, as the sky darkened inkily again, and the wind renewed its assault, I thought I could hear the female Hobby calling. But it could have been the echo in my soul.
Rain began to slap. End of interlude.
A return later saw the female sitting near her nest, angled to the wind. It's so cold I'm wearing my winter hat - and decided on a short walk to warm up.
Farming activity yonder brought my attention out west, where I saw a Buzzard in the busy air, circling. It had attention from a Hobby too. The falcon was looping rapidly around it, using the wind to whip arcs at the buteo, harrying the big bird, though it was a thousand yards from the nest.
Leaving the Buzzard he headed into the gale, rising through the slipstream powerfully, a salmon swimming up white water, going for the grey above him. Soon he dissolved into the cloud.
A few clouds later he was back, passing his prey to his mate, who, as usual, had flown to greet and grab. She took the bird to the nest tree to prepare it for the young. But a Crow had been watching.
The corvid came in, dangling in the breeze above her, watching, closing. She left her meal and headed for her tormentor, screaming as she flew at the Crow. The male, leaving his more distant tree streaked in to assist, and before long the Crow had been repulsed. She returned to the cached bird.
Some seconds later she was making her way to the male who had returned to his further tree - still calling at him. Had the prey been given to young? Had the Crow's attentions meant it had been lost? Whichever it was she continued to beg from her mate - but he remained near her, watching Swifts go by.
Briefly the sun came out. For five minutes butterflies appeared and flitted the hedgerows, amongst them Purple hairstreaks spiralled manically around oak fronds: with the fleeting sun, a brief opportunity to fly.
Away in their tree, as the sky darkened inkily again, and the wind renewed its assault, I thought I could hear the female Hobby calling. But it could have been the echo in my soul.
Rain began to slap. End of interlude.
halftwo
Wird Batcher
Hedge Hopper
Freezing cold and windy. Grey. Winter in summer.
Action happened after some time as JB and I stood and shivvered. The pair were around the nest area - then quiet. Then a hunt.
The male came in across a field, hugging the ground, right past us, giving superb views as he put on speed when he reached the hedge. Keeping very low and now very fast he whipped over the next hedge just as a flock of sparrows spotted him. They had barely begun avoiding tactics as his momentum took him among them, but still he missed.
Next second he was going the other way, still low, across another field. Over the next hedge, and below our views, but by the swarm of panicking hirundines his progress could be guessed at.
And that was it.
Freezing cold and windy. Grey. Winter in summer.
Action happened after some time as JB and I stood and shivvered. The pair were around the nest area - then quiet. Then a hunt.
The male came in across a field, hugging the ground, right past us, giving superb views as he put on speed when he reached the hedge. Keeping very low and now very fast he whipped over the next hedge just as a flock of sparrows spotted him. They had barely begun avoiding tactics as his momentum took him among them, but still he missed.
Next second he was going the other way, still low, across another field. Over the next hedge, and below our views, but by the swarm of panicking hirundines his progress could be guessed at.
And that was it.
halftwo
Wird Batcher
Owls To The Left Of Me, Falcons To The Right
PM: Drizzle, drizzle, rain.
Appalling weather was a constant as the collapsed sky draped wetly across the ground, heavy drizzle horizontal, driven by cold winds. Grey on sodden grey.
For an hour the Little owl sat and watched, hunkered spherically, speckly, cryptically, patiently: glaring down from its sodden bough, bright eyes dilated in the gloom, switching its head like a compass.
Another flies in and sits by its mate, burps an abrupt alarm and moves up the tree, disappearing in dark and glistening foliage, leaves spattering gathered rain.
Slowly the rain stops, the sky lifts: a soggy tent flapping in the wind, dull canvas unpegged. Suddenly the world wakes in the false dawn, predators break out from their stretch.
A female Peregrine circles low and slowly, huge and graceful, up from some close and sheltered resting place, glides past and takes her place in an ash. A hundred corvids lift in alarm and spirals: a corkscrew in black. Calls hang and are blown away. Swallows follow the falcon, silently: no alarm for the Peregrine.
But from the nest tree the male Hobby has seen the huge falcon, too. He calls and flies to his perch in the open. The Peregrine squats fatly, menacingly on her branch, head-bobbing at passing potential prey. And the two falcons watch each other and neither moves. On her nest the female Hobby must be sitting, measuring the threat and staying still.
Two Common gulls - the first of the post-breeding season, down from the north, bright through the misty afternoon - flap and float like ghosts. Swifts arc past, fading into the dense atmosphere: comma, full stop, comma. A Sand martin, showing dark armpits as it rolls, slips south.
And still the stand off: owls and falcons at their stations. Stalemate.
Rain falls from the risen sky, clouds now visible: no respite; no mercy.
PM: Drizzle, drizzle, rain.
Appalling weather was a constant as the collapsed sky draped wetly across the ground, heavy drizzle horizontal, driven by cold winds. Grey on sodden grey.
For an hour the Little owl sat and watched, hunkered spherically, speckly, cryptically, patiently: glaring down from its sodden bough, bright eyes dilated in the gloom, switching its head like a compass.
Another flies in and sits by its mate, burps an abrupt alarm and moves up the tree, disappearing in dark and glistening foliage, leaves spattering gathered rain.
Slowly the rain stops, the sky lifts: a soggy tent flapping in the wind, dull canvas unpegged. Suddenly the world wakes in the false dawn, predators break out from their stretch.
A female Peregrine circles low and slowly, huge and graceful, up from some close and sheltered resting place, glides past and takes her place in an ash. A hundred corvids lift in alarm and spirals: a corkscrew in black. Calls hang and are blown away. Swallows follow the falcon, silently: no alarm for the Peregrine.
But from the nest tree the male Hobby has seen the huge falcon, too. He calls and flies to his perch in the open. The Peregrine squats fatly, menacingly on her branch, head-bobbing at passing potential prey. And the two falcons watch each other and neither moves. On her nest the female Hobby must be sitting, measuring the threat and staying still.
Two Common gulls - the first of the post-breeding season, down from the north, bright through the misty afternoon - flap and float like ghosts. Swifts arc past, fading into the dense atmosphere: comma, full stop, comma. A Sand martin, showing dark armpits as it rolls, slips south.
And still the stand off: owls and falcons at their stations. Stalemate.
Rain falls from the risen sky, clouds now visible: no respite; no mercy.
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halftwo
Wird Batcher
Intruder?
07:00 - 08:45 : still & warmer than of late.
Within minutes the male Hobby was away in a leisurely manner to disappear below green horizons. Some time later, judging by the hirundines swirling in the opposite direction, a Hobby was hunting out of sight.
Two Ravens were around this morning for a short time and plenty of Swifts constantly present today: warmth and calm after the dire weather of late.
Much scanning later, as a group of Swifts came by, the male launched from a hidden tree to fly right over me, very fast. His intentions seemed to be to attack the hirundines some way off, his bee-line at speed made a sudden swerve as he got among them, outpacing the fleeing birds. But he kept going, now turning again.
Now I could see another Hobby on the far side of the hirundine bunch - and he was going after it. The second Hobby turned from his path and he followed. Swerving together, they were soon out of sight.
From his behaviour this looked like an intruding Hobby - and he was seeing it off. He'd spotted it from a distance which, through binoculars from my viewpoint, made it little more than a speck. And he'd started from another 300 mtrs. away.
07:00 - 08:45 : still & warmer than of late.
Within minutes the male Hobby was away in a leisurely manner to disappear below green horizons. Some time later, judging by the hirundines swirling in the opposite direction, a Hobby was hunting out of sight.
Two Ravens were around this morning for a short time and plenty of Swifts constantly present today: warmth and calm after the dire weather of late.
Much scanning later, as a group of Swifts came by, the male launched from a hidden tree to fly right over me, very fast. His intentions seemed to be to attack the hirundines some way off, his bee-line at speed made a sudden swerve as he got among them, outpacing the fleeing birds. But he kept going, now turning again.
Now I could see another Hobby on the far side of the hirundine bunch - and he was going after it. The second Hobby turned from his path and he followed. Swerving together, they were soon out of sight.
From his behaviour this looked like an intruding Hobby - and he was seeing it off. He'd spotted it from a distance which, through binoculars from my viewpoint, made it little more than a speck. And he'd started from another 300 mtrs. away.
halftwo
Wird Batcher
August At Last
10:00 - 11:45 : Sun & showers, warmth.
Billowing cumuli inflating in patches of blue, real warmth for once. August arrived properly. Swifts filled the air again, and dragons came out. Three species: Brown hawker among the tree tops, yellow wings catching the sun; an Emperor patrolling his small territory over water lillies, and a Common darter hovering and darting in the pools of sunshine, gleaming brick red: a bullet from a wound.
Even the rain was warm, rain falling on ripe blackberries along the hedges, hedges bird full, birds spilling out into the lanes, lanes with young Yellow wagtails flitting and Song thrushes hammering snails. Snails brought out by the blood-warm rains.
And as the rain turned briefly heavy, briefly wetting, the Hobbies sought shelter - moving to shadowed under-slung boughs. The rain's gentle roar passed and now the whispered sound of its hiss from distant woods began to fade. The male Hobby prepared for another hunt, checking long feathers, watching the rolling motion of Swifts angling past his snag branch as the sun shone in shafts again: torches in a cave.
His calls reached me: calls never given before, rare calls of some secret meaning, half a dozen double notes: "Di-lut di-lut di-lut..." a little like a Goldfinch, but far louder. He sat bolt upright, predatory, alert, sinews stiffened, craning his head. What could he see? What depths of distance his to divine? Whatever it was it was beyond my sight.
Then he was off, pulled along by his own gaze, rising confidently amongst Swifts and hirundines. Behind a tree...
10:00 - 11:45 : Sun & showers, warmth.
Billowing cumuli inflating in patches of blue, real warmth for once. August arrived properly. Swifts filled the air again, and dragons came out. Three species: Brown hawker among the tree tops, yellow wings catching the sun; an Emperor patrolling his small territory over water lillies, and a Common darter hovering and darting in the pools of sunshine, gleaming brick red: a bullet from a wound.
Even the rain was warm, rain falling on ripe blackberries along the hedges, hedges bird full, birds spilling out into the lanes, lanes with young Yellow wagtails flitting and Song thrushes hammering snails. Snails brought out by the blood-warm rains.
And as the rain turned briefly heavy, briefly wetting, the Hobbies sought shelter - moving to shadowed under-slung boughs. The rain's gentle roar passed and now the whispered sound of its hiss from distant woods began to fade. The male Hobby prepared for another hunt, checking long feathers, watching the rolling motion of Swifts angling past his snag branch as the sun shone in shafts again: torches in a cave.
His calls reached me: calls never given before, rare calls of some secret meaning, half a dozen double notes: "Di-lut di-lut di-lut..." a little like a Goldfinch, but far louder. He sat bolt upright, predatory, alert, sinews stiffened, craning his head. What could he see? What depths of distance his to divine? Whatever it was it was beyond my sight.
Then he was off, pulled along by his own gaze, rising confidently amongst Swifts and hirundines. Behind a tree...
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halftwo
Wird Batcher
Thunder Flies, Blackberries & Buzzards
16:00 - 17:00 ish. : Warm, moist.
Virtually microscopic thunder flies crawled, tickling the skin. Dank, heavy, soporific air hung like a gasp. Buzzards, in hiding of late, drew lazy circles in the blurry sky, lifting in the damp brightness.
Snacking on ripe blackberries drooping heavily from hedges where Wrens churred and pirouetted perkily, I listened to the cries of the Hobby as she screamed defiance at passing Buzzards, and rode out to skim their indifferent backs.
The Little owls, too, surprised by the buteoful skies, yelped warnings and scanned the heavens, bobbing to hiding places in oaky crevices. Young Whitethroats raided leaf clusters and saw the year's first passing Migrant hawker gliding by.
Rooks and Jackdaws in Hitchcockian hundreds caused trees to sag under their dark weight. A Hare galloped to me and stopped; then colt-like tiptoed back legs sprung the animal away through the hedge. A fly-specked cowpat held the Hare's impression as proof of its presence in this dreamlike sequence.
Back from her loud Buzzard-driving foray, the Hobby comes back on bowed and winnowing wings, head steady as she slides to her bough, lands and folds her long wings: swords to the scabbard.
16:00 - 17:00 ish. : Warm, moist.
Virtually microscopic thunder flies crawled, tickling the skin. Dank, heavy, soporific air hung like a gasp. Buzzards, in hiding of late, drew lazy circles in the blurry sky, lifting in the damp brightness.
Snacking on ripe blackberries drooping heavily from hedges where Wrens churred and pirouetted perkily, I listened to the cries of the Hobby as she screamed defiance at passing Buzzards, and rode out to skim their indifferent backs.
The Little owls, too, surprised by the buteoful skies, yelped warnings and scanned the heavens, bobbing to hiding places in oaky crevices. Young Whitethroats raided leaf clusters and saw the year's first passing Migrant hawker gliding by.
Rooks and Jackdaws in Hitchcockian hundreds caused trees to sag under their dark weight. A Hare galloped to me and stopped; then colt-like tiptoed back legs sprung the animal away through the hedge. A fly-specked cowpat held the Hare's impression as proof of its presence in this dreamlike sequence.
Back from her loud Buzzard-driving foray, the Hobby comes back on bowed and winnowing wings, head steady as she slides to her bough, lands and folds her long wings: swords to the scabbard.
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'Soporific air hung like a gasp'......absolutely right H2...an excellent description!!
I have felt that 'air' here in the shires of late....:smoke:
My apologies for not 'appearing' on this thread of late...i only wish i could report on 'my' hobbies....tis difficult tho when all i have is an absence of hobbies...
They have vanished like a dream....
....but i still scan the skies in hope of their return......:cat:
All the best...:t:
I have felt that 'air' here in the shires of late....:smoke:
My apologies for not 'appearing' on this thread of late...i only wish i could report on 'my' hobbies....tis difficult tho when all i have is an absence of hobbies...
They have vanished like a dream....
....but i still scan the skies in hope of their return......:cat:
All the best...:t:
halftwo
Wird Batcher
Hi U,
No sign this morning - so not always findable.
Have been following your posts & blog on the superb Wildlife Art Forum (what a delight that is) & have seen your lack of sightings.
Love the "Images" there, will visit again soon.
Cheers, H
Yeah H2....the art department here is a good place to dwell...[for me anyway]..i love looking at all the folks interpretations of nature....! Glad you like some of my 'images'...such as they are:eek!:...[i might do another 'hobby special' on my blog sometime soon]....
I ventured out for another look on my local patch this afternoon and the absence of hobby was almost deafening....[tis a mystery what has become of them]....
Irene Boston
Well-known member
Well, I don't know if it's just me but in my stretch of West Norfolk, where I've usually got a few spots which are reliable for Hobby, I've had nothing in recent weeks. I spent a good few hours at a spot at the weekend where I've never failed with them before - it's a good hunting spot over a series of ponds set in woodland. So my aim this year of really pinning down a pair has not worked out and I'm struggling to even get a regular 'fix' of them.
I don't know if others around Norfolk or around the country have found the same dearth of Hobbies?
Thanks heavens for H's et al's posts to keep us going!
Irene
halftwo
Wird Batcher
Thanks, Irene, I've been there this morning & things are very quiet - male perched up - unmoving. Of course I could have missed the action already - but at this time they really should be very busy...
Fingers crossed. Will be back later.
Edit: a little later (having realised "farming activity" had caused some disturbance as I was there earlier) the pair were both around the nest area.
The female appeared in the sky and made a half-hearted pass at a passing Sand martin (which seem to be on the move now) before flying around a corvid-filled tree to hassle Jackdaws. She was joined by the male and a male Kestrel - and for several minutes the three falcons swirled around the tree as various crows took turns to chase and be chased by the raptors.
After this the Hobbies settled into different trees nearby. As for the young (if any) I cannot say.
Fingers crossed. Will be back later.
Edit: a little later (having realised "farming activity" had caused some disturbance as I was there earlier) the pair were both around the nest area.
The female appeared in the sky and made a half-hearted pass at a passing Sand martin (which seem to be on the move now) before flying around a corvid-filled tree to hassle Jackdaws. She was joined by the male and a male Kestrel - and for several minutes the three falcons swirled around the tree as various crows took turns to chase and be chased by the raptors.
After this the Hobbies settled into different trees nearby. As for the young (if any) I cannot say.
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halftwo
Wird Batcher
Empty Nest?
Third visit: one (male?) in the same place as 90 mins. earlier. The other came in and both flew to the nest tree.
One (same one - ?female) then away to hunt - some distant views of hunting as the winds took it away.
Other around the nest tree - but there has been no nest visit seen for days now. I am fearful of the turn of events...
Third visit: one (male?) in the same place as 90 mins. earlier. The other came in and both flew to the nest tree.
One (same one - ?female) then away to hunt - some distant views of hunting as the winds took it away.
Other around the nest tree - but there has been no nest visit seen for days now. I am fearful of the turn of events...
John Barber
Well-known member
End Of The Road ?
Visted the site this afternoon and had good views of both adults hawking insects around the site but in almost an hour an a half neither bird visited the nest tree.
I had seen the female take food to the nest on Sunday afternoon, so the birds were at least going through the motions of feeding a chick up until then. We can only guess as to what's happened since.
Oh for a nestcam !
Visted the site this afternoon and had good views of both adults hawking insects around the site but in almost an hour an a half neither bird visited the nest tree.
I had seen the female take food to the nest on Sunday afternoon, so the birds were at least going through the motions of feeding a chick up until then. We can only guess as to what's happened since.
Oh for a nestcam !
sid ashton
Well-known member
I was there for only about half an hour this evening on the way back from the Wood Sand at Pennington flash. One Hobby, the female I think sat in lonely vigil in the perch tree next to the nest tree for the time I was there - just as I was about to leave she went off towards the East - there was no calling:-C
joannec
Well-known member
So sorry H.:-C
I was tipped off about some hobbies in a new to me location this week so went to have a look. Wasn't disappointed. There were two hobbies kekekeing, both parents I presume. We were there for an hour or so and in that time they repeatedly reappeared but that's not all. The site was obviously close to a buzzard nest site. There were two just fledged youngsters and the hobbies were giving them a bad time, didn't like them at all. Also a kestrel entered into the frey. Quite exciting!! I hope to go back but will stick to the footpaths............really really don't want to cause any disturbance.
The pair I referred to earlier in this thread: I'm told they have also suffered from corvid predation.:-C It's such a hazard for them.
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halftwo
Wird Batcher
No reported Gtr. Man. pairs - though there are a few, I'm sure. Cheshire - four sites I know of - probably a few more. Risley/Rixton pair somewhere, but I don't know how easy they are, sorry.
Thanks, Joanne, I'm gutted. And they were rather a lifeline for me...
Cheshire Birder
Well-known member
I believe birds are seen fairly regularly from the tower hide but you may have to sit around for a while before they show. Pick a dry preferably sunny day to give yourself a better chance.
CB
