At last, Spring sunshine and our garden throbs with life,
blossom in the trees brings buzzing honey bees, bumble bees, wasps with the
occasional butterfly and a blinding array of colour above the emerald green carpet
of the new seasons lawn; the swallow has arrived and busily swoops in and out
of the barn to repair the nest lodged in the rafters above where the spring balance
hangs to weight the deer; my aviaries are again alive and busy as falcons call
me to their new gravelly nests, mottled
dark red eggs start to appear. It's the
breeding season again, the time to dream of what might be some day in the
future of my way of life when all our effort comes to fruition in some new
creature, falcon, dog or horse.
The greatest benefit of breeding is that I have a new animal,
unblemished as a blank sheet of 300lbs rough watercolour paper on which the
trainer as artist can create opportunities enabling the creature to reveal itself. Just as in the slowly drying puddle of
watercolour my picture slowly emerges
from the fibres of the paper it is with insight and sensitivity one can seek
the core of this new creature and enable its self expression with ever
increasing sincerity and confidence. At the same time as he explores this new
character the trainer has to find in his own being what he can give to enable
this falcon, horse or dog to become its own deepest being. A process of
communication is developed, a relationship is born.
This is our first season without Nelson as our main peregrine
semen donor and with new 'boys' trying to create their routines. When I walked
the dogs across the airfield a snipe jinked away before he skied up to
disappear in the pinky blue haze. This small marshy area has given so much fun
over the years in a small area of landscape where no drain could run and the
arable prairie that is today's version of Norfolk cannot quite overwhelm this
remnant of what used to be normal damp, claggy, moss and rush, so much more
drawing wildlife from far, far away.
At the turn of the new century we had decided to welcome it
in with our flights focussed around this honeypot. Thisbe, my six year old
female Peregrine, left the fist and flew in a straight line for about 2 miles
until she was almost invisible in the binoculars. At this distance she was
already high but turned to retrace her wing-beats still climbing until she was
directly overhead at about 1500ft. It was an awesome display of sheer
competence that culminated in a vertical screaming stoop with the sound of
ripping canvas, devastating the single partridge flushed by my Irish setter
bitch Sienna from the frosty winter rape nearby.
Following Thisbe, her older brother Nelson was put on the
wing. He was reticent to climb and flew the whole area on an inspection tour
before he would go up - it was a good ten minutes before he finally came
overhead. Frustration seemed to persist when I looked up to see he was not
alone and again a passage tiercel had joined his 'waiting on'. This has
happened many times before and usually upsets a good flight but since Sienna was already on point in the
marshy area I sent her in to flush the expected snipe. Jinking away it stayed
low for about 200 yards hoping to evade detection. No such luck for the snipe and
the brown bird stooped hard in behind the fleeing wader, forcing him up into the
air and a display followed of aerial mastery shocking to see from this young
bird. Nelson had not joined in and being reliable I did not pay him any
attention expecting him to hold position whilst the flight played out. Many
times this Peregrine could have easily taken the snipe only to pull off and
then resume pursuit from a new angle. It was all a game for the young passage
tiercel. All around us the flight circled for many minutes before the quarry
finally made a commitment to leave the area, still with the male on its tail.
The young Peregrine did not return and I looked back to
Nelson intending to take him down to the lure. More complications as now a
sister juvenile brown bird had joined in and was busily keeping herself glued
to Nelsons tail as he tried to hold position. Every time he made a move towards
me she chivvied him and prevented his response to me. There was nothing for it
but to work out the ground and flush something for them to focus their
attention. Eventually we produced a running red legged partridge with Nelson now
ready for anything and wanting to show
this pale coloured northerner how it should be done. His stoop was so confident
that it left her as an onlooker, a mere 'voyeur' as he scooped up the Red-leg
and landed to dispatch it on the ground, defending his prize. Lazily she
circled around him as he plucked only now to be joined once again by the errant
snipe hawk, the passage male who had obviously chosen to leave his snipe to
return to his sister and us for more fun!
Falconer to the rescue seemed the right response and a quick
dash across the winter stubble was called for. With one more falcon, Judy,
still on the cadge and yet to fly what more could happen? This was already a
memorable day and a fitting way to start the new millennium.
 |
| Joanie MacMillen - Brit.Nat.Ch. Dadia |
Today in the Spring sunshine I can savour my coffee, dream
of what has been and sense optimism for what might be just around the corner in
this new relationship.
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