Roe Rut

Thirty three degrees, in soaring temperatures and thundery showers breaking what has been a summer drought Roe Buck rut has arrived. The females coming into season was obvious when one walked in front of my car to cross Long Row from a harvested barley field into one of standing golden wheat. Once she would have disappeared amongst the ears but with modern varieties having shorter straw she was visible right across the field as she spread her scent to attract this year's suitor. Following this sign I was out this afternoon to see what Roe are on my shoot? There is much activity with harvest in full swing, tractors and combines in all directions and much noise causing some difficulty using a Roe call in the still heat after lunch. Following a thunder shower it was a very pleasant experience as wood pigeons cooed loudly amongst the oaks in the Victorian hedge whist thermalling buzzards overhead called to each other in a  communal  outing, a cacophany of noises making the soft sounds of deer hard to hear. Sadly lacking any controls we now have too many buzzards and this year the shooting syndicate has given up, another aspect of country life slowly being lost to modern idealism.

As I gently blew my Roe-call hoping to bring a curious buck nearby a sparrowhawk appeared, probably also attracted by my call since the sound is very similar to the eyasses screaming in the nest. She was flying very slowly almost touching the ears of wheat in a thorough search amongst the stems for small birds now living and feeding in the ripe crop. Usual expectation is for the smash and grab style of ambush flight normally seen of this devastatingly effective predator but it was fascinating to see an unusually methodical style of hunting, leisurely flight with every attention to detail as it worked erratically across the endless carpet of ripe corn. For several minutes I watched its strategy, maintained until inevitable success brought today's meal.

Now into August and only nine days from the glorious twelfth, my friend is back from his summer concessionary family holiday in Italy and anxious to get his inter-mewed female Peregrine back on the block ready for the dash north to Caithness. So having prepared 240 wood pigeons shot off the fresh barley stubbles this week I delivered him a few frozen trays and helped him get her jessed up, coped and ready for the new season. At last it is here, the lazy days of summer suddenly become busy again, the breeding season is almost over as we wait for Ember to whelp in the next few days, moulting is nearly completed for most of the team and the new game season arrives.

So unexpectedly this evening, Nimo, my seven year old tiercel, sits on his block preening after a bath in the evening sun. Following what seemed a momentum I responded to the moment on my return home and also brought him out of the chamber, back into our life that is falconry. Tomorrow maybe Emma will join him.