Corona Wildlife Diary: Day Fifty-five

The uplifting role that wildlife plays in our lives has become more vital than ever. So, for my own sanity as much as anything, I’m going to keep a daily diary of what I find around my garden. Photograph the wildlife you can see from your window or in your garden and post your pictures on the ‘Sussex Wildlife Trust Nature Table’ page.

Day Fifty-five

Some of the highlights of yesterday's Back Garden Bird Race were the birds of prey people saw from their gardens and windows. There was a migratory Black Kite and an Osprey passing through Sussex. The Hobby, our migratory falcon, was seen by a few people and Red Kites seem to be popping up everywhere. I was thrilled to add a Kestrel to my list - the first one I have seen over the garden in quite some time.

(Photo by Hugh Clark)

Whether high on the South Downs or alongside a busy A27, a kestrel is instantly recognisable; a thin-winged falcon hovering in mid-air seemingly frozen in time; crucified against the clouds. Kestrels don’t exactly hover like smaller birds such as hummingbirds can. A Kestrel is actually flying forward at exactly the same speed as the wind is blowing it back and therefore appears motionless. It is performing an intimate duet with the breeze. Imagine the oncoming wind as a flamenco guitarist calling the tune, the Kestrel alters the tempo of its wing beats, subtly twisting its wingtips or fanning its tail in response. 

On calm days the Kestrel has to work to stay aloft but on breezy days it subtly surfs the airstream. As its body writhes gracefully, the head stays in the exact same position; focused eyes staring down to the earth. These motionless eyes are the whole reason behind this incredible performance. The Kestrel can now detect the slightest quiver in the long grass that will betray a mouse’s movement.

 
(Photo by Bob Eade)

I’ve been obsessed with watching Kestrels since the seventies when I joined the Young Ornithologist’s Club and got my mum to sew their hovering Kestrel logo patch on my denim top. I still have my YOC Kestrel t-shirt somewhere.

(Found it! I still have my YOC Kestrel t-shirt from the seventies. Not too sure I could squeeze into it now though)

Since then I’ve watched hundreds of Kestrels hover and drop, but I’ve still yet to see one rise triumphantly with a mouse in its talons. I feel cheated. But I've sort of felt that the Kestrel has been cheated too. It just hasn’t received the recognition it deserves for its hovering talents

Certainly long ago in Sussex the bird’s skilled flight was celebrated in colloquial names such as 'wind bivver' or 'vanner hawk' Across England it was once the 'windhover', also the name of the famous 1877 sonnett (here) in which Gerard Manley Hopkins pays tribute to bird’s ‘brute beauty and valour and act’. Yet all these names were eclipsed by Kestrel,  a name derived from the French word ‘crecelle’ meaning rattle; a reference to its jangly ‘ki-ki-ki-ki’ call.

  

(Photo by Peter Brookes)

At one point, the aerial accomplishments of the Kestrel were acknowledged by the aviation industry when a new plane capable of vertical take-off was christened the Hawker Siddeley Kestrel. But when this prototype plane was modified, the name had to be modified too. This new name immortalised another bird of prey; the Harrier Jump Jet. And so the Kestrel, a bird which has such command of movement, has to be content lending its name to a brand of super-strength lager. Ironically, after a few cans you’ll probably start to lose control of your ability to move.      

The weather's been incredibly windy here this morning. I often wonder how these gusts affect the Kestrel and its ability to hunt. I mean, how can it detect a twitch in the grass stems when the entire meadow is getting buffeted about? I guess it just has to ride out the storm until things calm down once again. Well, our current situation doesn't seem to be getting any calmer or clearer, so I'm not going to be going beyond the cul-de-sac just yet. I'm just gonna stay put, watch the world from my window and listen to some 1980s soft-rock to get me through this week. 

Good to see that Christopher Cross is improving after being paralysed by Coronavirus. So in tribute to him and the Kestrel - here's Ride Like the Wind.

 

(Photo by Jan McKinnell)