Feeding Red Kites in the garden

Red Kite in the conifer

Margaret has been feeding red kites from the garden.

We’ve seen red kites become more and more common in the past few years and they seem to have usurped buzzards as the top carrion bird in the area.

They’re lovely to see – huge birds with forked tails, riding thermals around the village or patrolling low over houses in the hope of spotting something tasty. I’ve never seen them land anywhere near houses, although one has been sitting in a large conifer at the corner of Arkady’s property (the windmill). It’s been there several times and will sit for hours, probably digesting its latest meal.

On Sunday, June 29, Sam and Lucy staged a birthday party for Julia and she brought back some cake (a rather large slab). I did my best to eat it, but after a week, Margaret put it on the lawn for the birds.

She was staggered to see a kite swoop down and grab the cake and fly off. I honestly thought our garden would be too small for a bird of this size to dive in, grab and have enough room to fly up and away. They look so big close too and with their wings fully outstretched, it seems they could touch either side of the lawn. I certainly underestimated their flying abilities!

Since the cake grab, Margaret has put more food on the lawn and they’ve been back and taken it. She now buys them chicken wings and we’ve heard them crying (possibly saying “feed me”).

So, we’ve heard a call, and a kite is sitting in the conifer at the side of Maggie’s garden. Margaret has left a chicken wing and by the time she’s back in the house, it has swooped down and taken it.

Sometimes she goes out in the garden and hears them call. She does an imitation of their cry in response and goes to get a chicken wing. It does sound a bit bonkers, but it does work, and they’ve been fed almost every day for the past three weeks.

I have tried to video them, but they don’t play ball. However, I did manage to take this through the lounge window.

Watching nature from my garden

I have spent a lot of time watching nature this year, mainly from my patio. It's surprising what you can see from your own garden.

For a start, we see a lot of buzzards. These magnificent, big birds have only been around for the past 10 years, recolonising the countryside after years when numbers declined due to gamekeepers and pesticides.

They are now very common and I can see them most days. They spend their time zig-zagging across the terrain looking for carrion or easy prey. Earlier in the year, I witnessed the rookery's early-warning and interceptor system spring into action when a ranging buzzard came too close. The rooks nesting in the large horse chestnuts on the old A47 saw the buzzard getting closer and closer to their roosts. I don't think it had baby rook on the menu, but they weren't taking any chances and dispatched an interceptor to harry the buzzard and drive it away.

Last week I watched a replay, but with a difference. I was in the garden and heard the distinct "mew" of a buzzard. It was over the bypass, quite low (less than 100 feet) quartering the ground and heading south towards the rookery. I expected a robust response, but there wasn't a flicker, the buzzard flew right across their trees and not so much of a caw from the rookery. Obviously, all the young have fledged some time back and were probably out in the fields feeding, so the rooks couldn't care less about Mr Buzzard.

As well as buzzards, we get a few red kites. These are very common a little to the west, in Rutland, and also on the rubbish dump at Eye, where they scavenge alongside the gulls, but they don't venture as far east as Thorney very often. They are easy to tell apart as the kite has a distinctive forked tail.

Watching buzzards carefully, I have seen this manoeuvre repeated several times and I guess it's a means of moving across country very quickly. The bird will catch a thermal and soar higher and higher until it's almost lost from sight. It will then take a bearing and begin a long, shallow dive, arrow straight and increasing in speed until the bird is really flying very fast; so fast that it quickly disappears from view. It's a very efficient way of getting from A to B as it expends little energy, using rising air like a glider and then taking a fast route to the next thermal (exactly what a glider does, in fact, although the buzzard certainly thought of it first).

Summer is chugging along, the wheat in the field next to our house was harvested last week and the straw was chopped by the combine-harvester and left lying on the ground to be ploughed in later. Wheat straw is much shorter than it was 30 years ago. When we came to the fens, we'd see fields of corn flattened by heavy rain and this rarely happens now, the wheat (and barley) stands neatly with the field crossed by tramlines where narrow-wheeled tractors have sprayed the crop. I can remember crop-spraying from aircraft and one year, a helicopter was used to spray the fields right next to our house. I much prefer the new method.

Longer wheat straw on older varieties meant more straw to dispose of. Farmers would leave this in lines where the combine had harvested and then burn it. Four three or four weeks in August the air would be full of smoke and it was really quite unpleasant, even if we did get some magnificent sunsets. Straw-burning was outlawed on environmental grounds and so our late summer air is now much cleaner.

Anyway, the harvested wheat field seemed to be attracting some insects and that, in turn, attracted a large flock of house martins, which are busy fattening themselves up for their journey south. They spent a good 20 minutes swooping and twisting over the field and it's amazing to watch. The small birds are so skillful, using their stubby, forked tails and short powerful wings to execute amazing turns.

As I was watching them, there was a loud, rumbling roar above. This was two RAF Tornado fighters practising dog-fights high overhead. This is a very common noise and not always welcome on an otherwise peaceful, sunny day but this was a clear morning and I could see the two planes very easily against the blue sky. They were executing some amazing tight turns and making an enormous din as the afterburners kicked in on full-throttle climbs. The Tornado is one of the most manoeuvrable planes in the sky thanks to its computer-aided, fly-by-wire technology, but for low-altitude work (and fly-catching) nothing beats a house martin.

I have made a determined effort in the past couple of years to create an environment that is good for insects. They have repaid me by caterpillars eating all my solomon's seal and mizuna, but there has been a definite increase in insect life and frogs/toads.

One of the things I've done is plant many more flowers which are good for pollinators and it's been interesting to see what "customers" the different flowers have attracted. honey bees love blackberry flowers, also cosmos and sedum; butterflies get really excited by buddleia; hoverflies have enjoyed the verbena bonariensis and bumble bees have fallen asleep on the heady nectar of the teasels. The flowers that have been most interesting to watch have been the globe artichokes at the allotment. Bees hurl themselves at the flowers and burrow down into the mass of soft petals to get at the nectar. They almost disappear from view and emerge covered in pollen, like an unpopular politician hit by a flour bomb.

Bees collecting nectar from the Globe Artichoke flowers. They hurl
themselves into the bed of petals and swim down to the nectar.

When I built the summerhouse, I made it as hedgehog-friendly as I could. Max and I even constructed a hollow chamber within the concrete base where a hedgehog could hibernate. I've seen the odd hedgehog in the garden since then, but they've hardly been beating a path to my door. A couple of weeks ago, Bert and Irene's granddaughter, who volunteers for a hedgehog rescue group, brought two hedgehogs for release back into the wild.

We lodged the open box to allow them to "escape" under the decking and I've not seen them since, although I am putting down water and some hedgehog food. There was a male and a female and the male was a large chap. I'd like to see hedgehogs in the garden, but they will choose where they want to live, not much I can do about it.

Footnote: I'm pleased to say that on August 25, I let Holly out before coming to bed and there was a hedgehog on the patio, probably one of the two released a couple of weeks previously, although I can't be sure.

The stags are gathering

It’s interesting that during our summer walks across the fen, we’ve not seen any Muntjac deer. The only ones we’ve seen have been in the garden and we’ve also had reports from friends that they’ve seen them in their gardens. Janet Knights found a doe had built a nest in her garden and given birth.

It seems the big herd of some 20 deer that we saw regularly during the winter broke up in late spring and the females came into the village (around gardens) to give birth and raise their young.

Last weekend, when we walked the dogs, I saw a big (well big for a muntjac) buck standing watching us from the end of the dyke. He was not too concerned by us (even the dogs) and stood and watched as we approached before finally heading off towards Whittlesey, but not in a great hurry. He stood in the middle of the field a couple of hundred yards away and cooly watched us. On the same walk, we saw two other lone bucks, also none too concerned at our approach.

I think the males are gathering on the open fen looking to stake out a bit of territory and perhaps gather a harem around them. They are certainly keeping a respectful distance between one another.

This morning when we walked the dogs, Holly put up a large buck in the field by the track. He’d been well hidden, but she must have got a little too close for his comfort and he bounded up alongside us (so we got a good look at him) and then headed off to the east at a pace, clearing a dyke quite comfortably and then running across a harvested wheat field, easily hurdling a couple of bales of straw that were in his way.

We also saw a fine red kite hunting along the hedge line at the edge of the village. I’ve seen plenty of buzzards, but the kite is a new one. There are lots just to the west of Peterborough around King’s Cliffe so this one was probably having a look east seeing what the pickings were like out in the fen. It’s easy to tell a kite from a buzzard - the buzzard has a rounded tail and the kite has a shallow swallow tail and more distinct light patches under its wing. We got a good look at this one, it wasn't at all shy, and flew low over us several times.

On the way back along the main road, we picked some sloes for Sam, who might make some sloe gin for Christmas. Margaret is talking about making some this year, but I’ll try to dissuade her. My sister makes very good sloe gin and we generally get a little taste of that (and some of Sam’s too, no doubt). I think we should make something else, perhaps advocaat or limoncello?

There are plenty of sloes on the trees and while Margaret was picking them (I was holding the dogs) a man shouted out of his front window: "Are they for sloe gin?" Margaret said they were and he said he'd like some. I thought he meant gin, but Margaret thought he was cross because we were picking sloes that he'd had his eye on.

A couple of minutes later he came out of his house and across the road towards us, followed by a little black shaggy terrier. He asked if we ever took the dogs on holiday and gave us some copies of his magazine. Turns out he's Gareth Salter, the editor of Out & About - the exclusive guide to dog-friendly travel and holidays. It's a monthly magazine and he's always on the look-out for people to share their doggy experiences with him (no - not that kind of doggy experience!). I was reading one while Margaret cooked breakfast and there was an article about visiting Southwold which Daniella Falco had written about her experience with her labradoodle Mia.

The magazine is an easy read, but a little like "what I did on my holidays". Perhaps I could write a few pieces for him when I retire?