Egg Number Two

So it turns out the peregrine in the last post was in fact incubating 2 eggs, the second of which must have been laid some time between yesterday afternoon and now. Breaking news! See it live here.

Egg Number One

Peregrine falcon egg number one was laid on Monday. There it is, pink and lonely, like a Mini Egg. It's a bit worrying that it's been laid while the weather is still so cold. Perhaps it won't survive, but there will no doubt be others. Last year 4 eggs were laid, 3 hatched and 2 males survived to fledge. The peregrines lay multiple eggs in the hope that at least some of them will survive; they don't expect them all to survive. This is one of nature's cold truths.

Yesterday, on my day off, I sat at the desk by the window and watched through binoculars the falcon parents on the top of the building in the distance. I think we must have one of the best viewing positions in town here: on the first floor on a hill facing the nest. You could get closer, but you would also be lower. 

Watching the peregrines is still fascinating. Yesterday I could see the mother (bigger than the father) eating something with great enthusiasm. I couldn't see what it was. Maybe a pigeon. Or a rabbit? The father stood on the other side of the balcony motionless, endlessly patient.

Here's a picture of one of the parents incubating the egg about five minutes ago:

See the webcam here.

Quest for the Bittern

Castle Waters, Rye Harbour

Ever since I heard the boom of a bittern on a CD of British Bird Songs, I have wanted to find one. The boom, their foghorn-like mating call, sounds like no other bird, really bassy and resonant. Bitterns are more common here in the Winter, so recently I decided, with the Winter coming to an end (hopefully) that I was running out of time to find one.

I decided Rye Harbour would be an apt place to start the quest. It's fairly close, just 1hr22m on the train and with its wet reed beds, it should be a perfect habitat for bitterns. They are very particular about where they live and as a result are quite rare and shy. This was to be a solitary quest because Rose works in the week and time was of the essence.

Rye Harbour is surrounded by marsh land with reed beds and rivers running through, and there's a castle; if it wasn't for the industrial plant and motorways nearby, it would have felt like a Saxon wilderness.

I wasn't very hopeful that I would find a bittern, to be honest. I couldn't find any evidence of recent sightings online, but I would surely be placated by other interesting birds.

As it happened, the castle waters were teeming with birds: pairs of bickering oystercatchers; bare trees full of cormorants guarding their nests like reptilian vultures; duckloads of ducks: tufted, shovellers (with their goofy bills like shovels), teal, pochard, widgeon, and then there was a lone graceful great crested grebe and a little grebe the size of a duckling even though it's fully grown; a hovering kestrel; pied wagtails blown across the plains in unruly parties…then amidst all this bustling activity, as I approached a reed bed, there was a golden apparition. It flew swiftly and large across the waters to the opposite reed bank. It was a bittern. More golden than you would expect from the drawn pictures in bird books that make it look dull brown and yellow. In my mind's eye now it was pure gold glistening in the barely-there sun, then disappearing completely into the reeds.

I realised it was too unspring-like for him to be booming to potential mates yet. I tried to imitate the sound to challenge him into responding but I doubt he even heard my feeble efforts. I was partly just booming with excitement, I must admit.

Below is a video of a bittern booming. You can just about hear it. Mostly you can just hear excited birdwatchers saying, 'it's booming!' Great pictures though.

The Peregrines are back

So tenacious has the winter been that the return of the peregrine falcons to their nest on the block of flats I can see outside my bedroom window came as a complete surprise. But there they are, or at least one of them. You can see the live action here, this year's webcam thankfully free of adverts.

Last year the peregrines stayed until mid-November. I used to watch them as I sat at the desk by the window and I was surprised that they were still lingering on into the early Winter. The two surviving youngsters had left earlier, I think; it's quite difficult to know who's who.

The female laid her first egg last year on 22nd March, so hopefully it shouldn't be long before we see some this year, though the poor weather might well put them off.

This will be the last year I can sit by the window and watch them, because we're moving out. We almost went for somewhere where we could still see the nest from the bedroom window, but it was a gloomy place; I don't think we would have been happy there.