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It’s a small piece the kids done for childrens television, and please feel free to leave a comment on you tube,

thanks,  Tom

I do like watching them fly, although float may be a better word to describe their lazy energy saving style. When the Europeans went to America and saw the black and turkey vultures floating around the skies, they naturally enough, but wrongly, referred to them as buzzards. I used to love old western movies and for some strange reason, every time I see a buzzard now I always think of John Wayne or Slim Pickens, after shooting some human low-life in the gut, lean off his horse, gob up a mouthful of tobaccy and say something like; “That double-crossin’ no-good varmint, leave ‘im there in the sun for the God-damn buzzards.”

Sometimes I wonder if watching birds is affecting my mental balance!

A couple of days ago I was driving down the main road, chatting on the phone to a friend and had to stop all conversation as a merlin sped across in front of the jeep, flipped over a sheep fence and I watched as it accelerated to turbo velocity across the field. I watch it as it disappeared out of sight.

Only then did I look back at the road.

Feckin’ birds, they’ll be the death of me yet!

Tom

When I was a kid I used to spend my time walking the hills with the dogs. I would walk for miles along the beaches in Winter-time when no one was about, or to distant fields or any piece of waste ground in the chance of spooking up a rabbit for the dogs to chase.

I would try naming the trees to myself and if I came across something unusual that I didn’t know the name of, I would take a few leaves home and look it up in one of my books so I would know it next time. The wild flowers were not as easy to learn, but the different weeds like groundsel and chickweed I knew well because I collected pockets full to feed the tortoises and finches we kept as pets.

As most of my family were interested in animals or birds of one kind or another, on arrival home it was the norm to be asked; “Did ya see anything on your travels?” And this is where I emptied out my pockets to show an egg-shell that needed identifying or relate how I had seen a badger or stoat or other rarity.

But the highlight for me in any walk or cycle out into the countryside was to see a bird of prey. Even to see a kestrel hovering in those days would stop me in my tracks. If I said I saw a merlin or hen-harrier, eye-brows would drop suspiciously and questions would be asked to see if I was exaggerating.

Cycling for hours and stashing our bikes in woodland, then walking on to high wild places in the hopes of seeing a wild peregrine or merlin might seem strange to many folk but to me it was just what we done. We had a laugh along the way and now as I think back on those days for some reason the sun was usually shining. Strangely enough my best ever sighting of a bird of prey was one time when I was not even out. I was standing in my garden in south county Dublin looking up at the sky. The truth is I spent a lot of my time looking up as I kept tumbling and high-flying pigeons as pets. I would spend hours training these birds to fly, picking out the best so I would know which would make the best pairs for future breeding.

One day as I stood watching my pigeons do their stuff a red kite appeared. My jaw dropped as every bird in the vicinity either scattered or mobbed him. Alarm calls and mayhem filled the air as this gentle bird innocently floated through my flock of tumblers sending them racing for shelter. He was only about forty feet in the air and in less than a minute he was out of sight. I ran for my bike to follow him and raced around the local streets to try and get another view, but to no avail, he was gone.

My family were all out at the time so no one even believed me; everyone knows that you don’t see red kites in Ireland! I could have said I had spotted a flying griffon and gotten the same response, but in my mind I knew I could not mistake that long forked tail and slender wing shape for anything else and even at the age of twelve or thirteen I knew I had seen something quite special. It was about three weeks later when a red kite sighting showed up as a little item on the national news that my sanity was validated. The year was about 1978 and I have seen red kites on a couple of occasions since while hawking in Wales, but every time I see one that first encounter springs to mind in infinite detail. I don’t exactly know why raptors of all kinds interest me so much, from those early glimpses of birds of prey in wild places to keeping, flying and breeding them today. I can only say I am glad they do.

As far as the red kite in concerned, this year, with the oldest of the re-introduced kites in county Wicklow reaching two years old and trying to nest is a fantastic sign as most raptors only reach sexual maturity at three. So thanks to some forward thinking humans, all looks good for them finding their place here again. Another prodigal bird returns.

Tom.

I am an avid bird-watcher, but I also like to catch hooded crows, and it’s not everyday that one gets a chance at this most wily of prey. Due to the fact that the two crows were feeding under the brow of the slope, this allowed me good sneaking room along the top.

Quietly I opened the door and slunk out, quietly I nipped ‘round to the back of the jeep and quietly took out the female Harris. As I ducked down and tip-toed along the top of the slope I could hear the Pink Panther theme tune in my head and had to glance around quickly to make sure no one was watching. After mentally gauging the distance and figuring I was in the right place with the two crows just below me I nudged the Harris over the edge.

She is a good bird and caught many crows over her two years, and has even taken large herring gulls on occasion, so I knew she was well able to handle either of the two corvids. Having kept hooded crows and ravens as pets when I was young I have a sneaking respect for both, but especially the formidable raven, so mentally I hoped she would catch the hooded crow and I would give her a good feed up before the next rain shower came.

The Harris Hawk went over the hill like a bullet. With a loud squawk of pure fright the hoody took off first. The raven, being bigger was just that bit slower off the mark, and with the hawk catching up fast it looked to me like a done deal with one less raven in the world.

 Ravens are an extremely aerial bird and are also seriously powerful on the wing as anyone that has spent time with one can confirm. This raven was no exception and it twisted out of the first grasp of the hawk. The Harris missed first time but it was obvious the raven was doomed.

Then it happened. The raven dropped whatever it was carrying; the thing it had been feeding on was still in its beak as it took off and my Harris suddenly changed direction and caught it in the air before it hit the ground. Of course the two crows shouted abuse as they flew of unscathed to feed another day. I was left thankful there were no other fellow falconers watching my feeble attempt at outwitting a crow!

As they say; “There is many a slip between cup and lip!”

Another day in the life of an Irish falconer.

Tom

Being flesh-eaters, my kids have an interest in all things raptor-like and as we passed along a valley I explained to them that we were near the place where the Red Kites were recently released. As I finished the sentence I looked up and saw a beautiful sight; five Kites soaring overhead along the top of the valley. With a shout of joy I pressed my face up against the windscreen for a better view and hit the brakes. It was extremely lucky for me that the driver behind me had excellent brakes too. I pulled in, parked and grabbed the camera. 

I have seen Red Kites in Wales on a couple of occasions but never had such a good view of these birds in the wild. They were soaring, playing and floating in the wind unlike any other bird of prey. Buzzards are readily identifiable by their short tail and the way they set their broad round wings with the odd slow flap to gain extra height, but Kites are very different. With their very long nearly pointed wings and their extremely long forked tail they have a way of flying that reminds me of those computer generated pterodactyls seen on television.

After watching them for a while they eventually drifted off to the north as we jumped back in the car and headed south. I was trying to convey to the kids just how lucky we were to have seen such a sight, when two miles on another four Kites showed up on the horizon.

The first time I saw a wild Red Kite in Ireland was when I was only young; watching my tumbler pigeons fall about the sky when suddenly a Red Kite passed through and panicked the flock, sending them into complete disarray. But to see the nine Kites in so many minutes last Sunday really was a beautiful sight and one to remember.

I don’t think they will spread throughout the country anywhere near the rate that the buzzard has, but it will be good to see these birds become a more common sight in the future.