Tag Archives: Sparrowhawk

How to Tell WhoDunnit: Pigeons Killed by Sparrowhawk, Fox

23 February 2015 Ian Alexander

Pigeon plucked by Sparrowhawk — Scene of Crime in London Wildlife Trust’s Gunnersbury Triangle Local Nature Reserve

OK, you see a blizzard of feathers, the entire mortal remains of a Wood Pigeon that once proudly flew the woods, jauntily sailing away from a mere human. Who did it – Sparrowhawk or Fox? You might think it impossible, given that both eat most of their quarry, leaving little but bloodied feathers.

The Guilty Party?
Sparrowhawk in Gunnersbury Triangle

The Culprit?
Red Fox in Gunnersbury Triangle

But you’d be wrong. Each leaves distinctive clues in the debris of their dastardly deeds.

How would one tell if the brutal murder was the Butler with Carving Knife in Pantry, or Doctor with Stethoscope Hose in Library? (with apologies to Cluedo) Or rather, Sparrowhawk with Beak and Claw in Mid-air Murder, or Fox with Teeth in Ambush from Shrubbery? Here’s how to be a wildlife detective …

Sparrowhawk with Beak and Claw in Mid-air Murder

The Sparrowhawk has no teeth; and it doesn’t like to eat feathers. So, it grips each one, and boldly plucks it from the dead prey, leaving whole feathers – the shaft tapering to a point that was once inside the bird’s skin – neatly removed, each in one piece.

Fox with Teeth, Ambush in Shrubbery

The Fox, however, wastes no time on single feathers, biting off and spitting out fluffy mouthfuls as quickly as he can. They may be bloodied, as below, when the skin gets torn, but the feathers generally have broken shafts.

Pigeon feathers bitten off by Fox, detail

The overall effect is still a blizzard of feathers, all that remains of the ex-Pigeon. But, though the Pigeon is no more, its traces indicate quite clearly whodiddit.

Now you know.

Sentimentality

There is a sad little postscript to this tale. Near both murder sites was a scatter of bird-seed. Some kind, well-meaning person, perhaps lonely, perhaps seeking friendship, had put out some food for the pigeons to eat in the cold weather.

Well-meaning, but unwise. The pigeons became accustomed to feeding on the ground … in poor light … without looking about them too much … and fell victim to two keen, hungry, unsentimental predators.

Conservation, Natural History, Nature Reserves, Wildlife

Animal Tracks in the Snow

3 February 2015 Ian Alexander

Animal tracks: Fox, Crow, and Squirrel prints on a snowy boardwalk

Today we woke to a snow-covered city, just a light dusting; and as often with snow, the weather was appreciably warmer than before the snow arrived.

Down at the nature reserve, the paths were empty of human footprints, but thickly sprinkled with animal tracks. Here some crows had walked to and fro across the path; there, a fox had jogged along the trail. But better was to come: the boardwalk across the pond was interlaced with tracks. On the left, a fox had gone the length of the boardwalk. In the centre, a crow had walked unsteadily along, the same way as me; and it, or another, had walked more rapidly back. On the right, more birds’ footprints: and the four-feet-together group of a squirrel, the smaller front prints clearly showing the marks of the sharp claws.

On a Birch branch above the anthill meadow, a Green Woodpecker hammered in search of food. Down by the ‘mangrove swamp’, a Jay screeched harshly, either for us or for a fox. Near the picnic meadow, a Sparrowhawk flew from its high perch, wheeled above the treetops, dived rapidly out of sight.

We carried tools and a ladder to visit the nestboxes and take down all that needed repairs. While I held the ladder, a party of four Long-Tailed Tits blew by, crossing from one Birch to the next one at a time. One of the boxes contained not just a mossy nest (like three others) but two old addled eggs, probably of Great Tit. While we struggled to prise off a somewhat too well attached box for maintenance, a Robin perched nearby, in hope of eating any grubs we might have disturbed. Several boxes had had their openings enlarged by much hammering by Blue Tits or Great Tits: nobody knows why they might do this, as it increases the threat to their nests from predators. We will make aluminium plates for the fronts of all the Tit boxes (the ones with circular holes): the Robin boxes just have a wide rectangular opening, which they definitely prefer. Inside one of the boxes was a mass of woodlice in the moss; another had a plump dead Noble False Widow Spider (Steatoda nobilis) inside.

Conservation, Philosophy, Politics

Stody Estate: Slopy Shoulders on Gamekeeper Crime

6 November 2014 Ian Alexander

Gamekeeper Allen Lambert has been sentenced to 10 weeks of imprisonment, suspended for a year, for intentionally poisoning 10 buzzards and one sparrowhawk with pesticide. The judge commented, unarguably, that the offences had crossed the custody threshold. That a gamekeeper old enough to know much better – Lambert is 65 – should do such a thing is pretty shocking. That the law should do so little given what the RSPB called “truly dreadful” and the worst bird of prey poisoning case it had ever seen in England, is disappointing in the extreme. If this isn’t enough to see a perpetrator behind bars, then what is? For of course, nobody is going to imagine that these were the first raptors that Lambert ever poisoned.

The owner of Lambert’s workplace, the famous Stody Estate in Norfolk is Charles MacNicol. We don’t know what he knew of what his gamekeeper of long standing was up to, nor what orders may have been given. What we do know is that MacNicol “wouldn’t tell BBC News whether he knew, or whether he condemned the killings.” Why not? If MacNicol was innocent, why didn’t he just say straight out that he thought the killings of protected birds of prey shocking and illegal, and that the Stody Estate would not condone them? Why not? It would have cost MacNicol nothing. His head-down-and-keep-shtum response immediately suggests his attitude to be entirely reprehensible, and leaves open the question of his knowledge, involvement in and responsibility for the actions taken.

In Scotland, the law on wildlife crime was changed by the Wildlife and Natural Environment (Scotland) Bill in 2011. This introduced ‘Vicarious Liability’ for Scottish landowners: in other words, they are automatically assumed to be responsible for criminal activities like poisoning wild birds on their land. This excellent piece of legislation makes wildlife crime clear-cut. If they knew or gave orders, they are liable. If they didn’t know, they should have, and they are still liable. The result? Wildlife crime in Scotland has suddenly and rapidly fallen from 10 poisoning incidents (killing 16 birds of prey) in 2011 to just 3 (killing 3 birds of prey) in 2012.

But in England, a country that loves nature, landowners aren’t liable for crimes committed by their gamekeepers. If a landowner were to buy some pesticides for lawful pest control, and give a quiet nod and a wink to a gamekeeper to poison off some buzzards and sparrowhawks, the landowner is more or less immune from prosecution. The RSPB wants England to have a similar law to Scotland’s. It’s about time we had one.

Conservation, Environment, Love of Nature, Nature Reserves

Aah, it’s Duckling Time

30 June 2014 Ian Alexander

Aah. Ducks with ducklings. Coots with Cootlings. Geese with Goslings. Swans with Cygnets. Moorhens with … chicks. Whatever the charmingly mediaeval diminutive nouns, it was a day for walking around the London Wetland Centre, enjoying the ‘sunny spells’ and the bright display of wild flowers, artfully seeded, and delighting in Mother Nature’s ability to conjure up fluffy sentimental feelings about roughly duck-shaped balls of fluffy down feathers.

I’d gone alone to see if there were any interesting dragonflies, but there weren’t many about: a warmer day is always better. But there was a Black-Tailed Skimmer basking on one of the ‘wildside’ paths.

Apart from that, I glimpsed one Hawker dragonfly – probably a Hairy dragonfly, as the only kind other than the Emperor seen there in the past month; and there were plenty of Common Blue and Bluetail damselflies about.

As for butterflies, it was alarmingly empty: a couple of meadow browns, a small white or two, and a female brimstone the highlight. My alarm at the lack of insects in general in England is growing. If it’s neonicotinoids – hot on the heels of all the earlier insecticides, many now rightly banned for their destructive side-effects on wildlife – then we are watching a manmade calamity. The BBC noted that some ditch water was toxic enough to be used, just as it was, as an insecticide spray for crops. The effect of that on dragonflies can only be imagined: a sad thing, as (living in rivers and ponds rather than on farmland) they have to some degree escaped the disaster that has all but eliminated our farmland birds, bees and butterflies.

But on a dead tree, wildside, was another fluffy-duckling sight, this time from a distinctly arboreal bird.

Two Green Woodpeckers, presumably a parent and a newly-fledged juvenile, were clinging to a dead tree, the parent a little higher up, the youngster apparently begging for food with open beak. The family drama went on for several minutes.

Tiny wildlife shows were visible on the flowers: here, two hoverflies of different species, busy being Batesian mimics of dangerously stinging wasps (but harmless as doves) are feeding, slow and relaxed in the sunshine, on the small flowers in a Great Burnet’s flowerhead. They didn’t seem at all bothered by each other, or by any risk from predators. But despite their glorious colours, it was duckling day today.

ObsessedByNature