The mystery caller (From Gazette & Herald)

The mystery caller

Birds of prey are seldom welcome in domestic gardens. Their impact on the birds which normally live and feed there is both dramatic and frightening, probably more so than the arrival of a prowling cat.

A cat has little option but to remain on or near the ground, which allows birds to keep out of its reach, whereas a highly-efficient hawk or falcon can out-manoeuvre and kill another bird on the wing. It is little wonder, therefore, that the arrival of any bird of prey, large or small, causes a commotion among our garden birds.

It is not the size of the hawk which frightens other birds - somehow, birds can recognise a predator because they will make a fuss if an owl or magpie gets too close and yet they will feed quite happily alongside some large birds like a wood pigeon, pheasant or domestic poultry.

Clearly, size alone does not terrify them but they are extremely wary of anything that resembles a hawk or falcon - they will even mob a cuckoo

which is so similar in its shape and colour to a bird of prey.

We had a graphic and very visible reminder of this a few days before settling down to compile these notes. It was time for my afternoon break from the word processing computer and so I settled before the patio windows to enjoy the view down the garden, mug of tea in hand. Our bird feeders were still in position and they were busy with a variety of garden birds which would keep us entertained.

A friend had joined us and, as we commented on the number of house sparrows, blue tits, longtailed tits, great tits, chaffinches and greenfinches, they all vanished in a trice. I have seldom seen so many birds disappear so quickly.

With a flurry of wings, a large hawk appeared, as if from nowhere, and settled on a wall only ten or 12 feet from us. I am not sure whether it was aware of our presence, for we were sitting behind

double-glazed patio windows, but two things were immediately evident.

First, this was not a merlin, sparrowhawk or kestrel because it was far too large, and second, there was no longer any other bird in sight.

Whereas only moments earlier, we'd enjoyed watching a rich variety of species at our feeders, now there was just one large bird of prey sitting on a wall.

So, what was it? I must admit I was not sure, and my first reaction was that it had escaped from a falconry or zoo, but there was no sign of any jesses on its legs.

Fortunately, it remained motionless on the wall for almost quarter of an hour which enabled us to locate some binoculars for a closer look and we also had time to get a couple of reference books from my library.

And so, with this hawk's apparent consent, we set about making a positive identification. We took turns in examining its features through binoculars as we compared them with our bird books.

The smallest of our birds of prey could be ruled out, first by their size but also because of their colouring. It did not have the warm brown upper parts of the kestrel nor the slate-grey of the merlin.

Our visitor's back was a very dark greyish-brown and it had very prominent white underparts with short dark horizontal bars across the breast, underparts of the wings and leg feathers.

In many ways, it reminded me of a sparrowhawk, except that its underparts were far too white and, of course, it was much larger. As we studied it, other features became evident. It had white patches behind the eyes and they were very clear to see against its dark grey-brown plumage, it had yellow legs and most of its beak was yellow, apart from the darker tip. Its eyes were either deep yellow or orange. It was not easy to estimate its total length but later, when it had gone, I could match it to the stone upon which it had perched and concluded it was around 18-20

inches long.

I began to think it was a peregrine falcon - the colouring and size were about right - but closer examination showed that our visitor lacked the

distinctive dark moustache-style of marking around its eyes and base of the beak.

And then we spotted a clue in the description of another bird of prey - we found one which was described as being like a very large

sparrowhawk. That was a fitting description of our visitor.

It was, we realised, a goshawk. Until the end of the Second World War, this was a very rare bird, but, due to its capability of being trained in falconry, its numbers increased in captivity. But since that time, some have escaped from falconry centres and others have been deliberately introduced to the wild.

Now, although still not very common, goshawks can be found in some of our coniferous forests

and there is one across the dale from our house.

I think our goshawk came from those woods, and he might have been tempted by the number of potential victims in our garden. I say "he" because the male goshawk is smaller than the female, she being up to two feet (60cm) in length. A fascinating addition to the birds seen in our garden.

Updated: 11:50 Friday, April 23, 2004