In pursuit of spring

The other weekend, a series of meetings and a conference took me south through the Chilterns, west to Reading and beyond. Any journey south that is made at this time of the year has the lure of spring about it. Spring is more advanced on the south coast than here in East Anglia; the buds more strongly swollen and the spring flowers further into bloom. It feels as if you are passing through time, rather than space.

Driving through mixed arable land, I passed many a clump of trees that hosted a rookery, with birds in attendance and standing sentinel over nesting attempts that already well underway. Skirting further south I drove through Gilbert White’s Selborne, dominated by its beech hanger and the surrounding downs. On another day I would have stopped here, walked the zig-zag path up the hanger or tacked across the fields towards Noar Hill. There is a strong sense of history in this landscape, the feeling that it has not changed quite so much as to now be unrecognisable to its former inhabitants.

The poet and writer Edward Thomas made a not dissimilar journey almost exactly a century ago. Heading west out of London with his bicycle, Thomas set out ‘In Pursuit of Spring’ documenting the landscape, its people and its sense of place. Although sometimes portrayed as a piece of nature writing, Thomas’s book is, in reality, something rather different. The wildlife described in his account is not central to the text. Instead it is part of the backdrop, contributing to the sense of landscape and place, working its part alongside names marked on the gravestones of the churchyards visited or the character of the buildings that sit within the folds of countryside that are passed.

Thomas’s journey is also a personal one and through his words you can discover something of the man and his reactions to a landscape that was undergoing a period of change. There are passages where Thomas laments what has been lost, something that I suspect is common to most writers on landscape, but these are balanced by moments where the joy of being at one with the landscape pushes through strongly. Landscape has this amazing ability to take hold of us and to lift our spirits. For me the sight of these springtime rookeries is a case in point; they are so characteristic of spring in the south of England, reflecting the wider landscape within which they sit. To see such a rookery can transport me immediately back to my childhood, delivering me to a landscape that skirts the downs and which appears timeless in its associations. This remains the landscape of Edward Thomas and those writing before him.

A drifting kite

It is a moment of instant recognition as I spot the shape of a Red Kite circling steadily above the steeply sloping field. A nearby Buzzard, also circling over the field, provides the contrast as I take in the shape of the wings and the fork of the tail. This is my first ‘Sussex’ kite and I am delighted to see it drifting over this landscape of small woodlots, tiny fields and plentiful hedgerows. It is the landscape of my youth and I think that the kites will do well here.

The Buzzard is also a recent addition to my ‘Sussex’ list, the species only returning in numbers within the last decade as part of a wider re-colonisation of former haunts. That both birds should be established here underlines a shifting change in attitudes. This has seen the levels of persecution fall away, allowing (in the case of the Red Kite) reintroduction into former haunts and (in both species) favourable increases in breeding numbers.

Red Kites are scavengers as well as predators, taking a wide range of food. Small birds and mammals dominate the diet in most areas but insects, fish and reptiles may also be taken. Despite its size, the Red Kite is not noted for its strength and anything larger than a half-grown Rabbit is unlikely to be tackled when alive. This makes carrion particularly important and it is not just larger carcasses that attract these birds. Many smaller corpses are also taken, the bird spotting these when gliding low over a piece of suitable habitat. It has been noted, for example, that a Red Kite may drop onto an earthworm from a height of ten or more metres, underlining the kite’s excellent eyesight.

Kites are also known for their habit of robbing other birds, using their agility to overtake smaller species, particularly Crows and Magpies, and to rob them of a morsel or two. This behaviour is known as kleptoparasitism and is seen in certain other species of birds (most notably skuas). It is amazing to watch a kite launch itself at a passing Crow and harass it into dropping the food it was carrying. This behaviour can be seen at its best where many kites gather together to feed.

Of course, West Sussex is not the only county to which these elegant birds have returned and I am well-used to seeing them around the Brecks these days, suggesting that they will soon be breeding here, if they have not already done so. While you are probably becoming increasingly familiar with seeing Buzzards over Norfolk, do make sure that you give each one a thorough once over, just to make sure it is not a passing kite.

Keeping things in proportion

It seems that many of us still have a problem with birds of prey; not a real, material, in your face kind of problem, but one of perception. The latest illustration of this came in the form of a letter from Hampshire, accompanied by a newspaper clipping with a stunning picture of a Red Kite and a headline that ran ‘School bans playing outside after Red Kite attacks on pupils.’ It appeared, so the rather brief article implied, that school children were ‘being ambushed by the birds of prey.’ The writer of the accompanying letter had clearly taken this article at face value and was concerned that the reintroduction of large birds of prey was putting the lives of small children at risk.

In Medieval times the Red Kite would have been a common sight over much of the English countryside, the bird also making a living in some of our larger cities where it could scavenge from the detritus of city life. As sanitation improved so the kites were lost from the built environment. Soon after they began to decline in rural areas, as levels of persecution increased alongside a growth in the number of shooting estates. The species was lost from England in the 1860s but did (just) cling on in Wales. With levels of persecution much reduced over recent decades, the decision was taken to reintroduce the species to its former haunts and work began in 1989 to make this possible. Today, the Red Kite population is in recovery and growing numbers have seen greater interaction with people.

The Red Kite is primarily a scavenger, feeding on carrion, but it will take small mammals, amphibians, small birds and various invertebrates. It is not, however, a threat to small children! In parts of the kite’s now expanding range, householders and landowners deliberately provide them with food; one kite feeding station in Wales is a huge tourist attraction. This something that could explain why the kites might have been attracted to playground scraps, perhaps with the school children even attempting to feed them by hand, throwing or holding up food.

Whatever the reason behind the incident, it underlines an innate fear that many of us still have of wild creatures. Being frightened might seem surprising, particularly given that we don’t have any large or dangerous predators left in Britain, but I suspect it is really a fear of the unknown. If you don’t know that a Red Kite is primarily a scavenger, that it eats lots of worms and is not going to steal your child, then you may be unable to shake off that fear. Maybe things will improve as more people get used to seeing the kites around.

Kites flying high

A recent trip to Oxford by car revealed just how well the English Red Kite population is now doing. Persecuted to extinction within the country by the end of the 19^th Century, the species hung on only in Wales and the current population stems from a great deal of high profile conservation work.

For me, as a child with a growing interest in birds and birdwatching, the Red Kite remained a tantalising bird, wished for but never seen on holidays to Wales (we were in the wrong part of Wales). Even though most of the persecution that had previously harried the species had ended, the conditions in Wales were such that the population found it difficult to prosper or to recolonise former haunts. It was for this reason that a decision was taken to reintroduce the Red Kite to England and Scotland, using birds from elsewhere in Europe (Spanish birds for the English releases and Swedish and German birds for the Scottish ones). These began in 1989, with young birds released to a site in the Chilterns, operated under carefully supervised and controlled conditions. Over the next five years 93 young were released from this site and the offspring from these birds provide the backbone of the population that can now be found from Oxford south to Didcot and beyond. Such has been the success of the reintroduction that you cannot drive up the M40 in daylight hours without seeing a good number of kites on your journey. The other day we saw three dozen, with 11 birds in the same field of view at one point.

Other releases have followed, including one in Central England and one in Yorkshire. These populations are also doing well and the species is becoming an increasingly common sight across much of the country. I now see Red Kites fairly regularly in Norfolk and at least one bird has been haunting the same bit of the Brecks over recent weeks, perhaps an early indication that we will soon have them established here as a breeding species.

Nesting kites suffer from the unwelcome attentions of egg collectors and birds are sometimes also targeted by a minority of landowners who, incorrectly, assume them to be a threat to game or livestock interests. The kite is an opportunist, taking advantage of whatever source of food is available locally and is happy to scavenge scraps. In parts of Didcot the birds are attracted to bird tables where some householders provide meat scraps specifically for the kites. Now, there’s a bird that would make an impressive entrance at your garden feeding station. It’s certainly good to see them on the wing, a sign that our attitudes are changing for the good.