A wood mouse forages on the forest floor. It is hungry and like all animals it must eat to survive. Its acute sense of smell draws it closer to the nutty crumbs of a grey squirrel’s plundered cache. The crumbs halt the fast paced rodent and it begins to feed furiously, as if instinctually aware of the perils of exposure.
Death observes from above. The mouse has strayed close to a favorite perch of a Tawny Owl. It too is hungry and eyes the easy meal. It readies itself to drop down on silent wings for the precious calories the mouse will provide.
Below the mouse stops feeding. The forest is still. Death has arrived.
The Owl is struck by a grey ghost, a phantom that pins it against the tree rendering the Owl’s own talons and beak unusable in its defence. This hunter of hunters tears feathers and flesh from the Owl’s now lifeless body. Oblivious to the carnage, the mouse scurries back to the safety of a tree trunk as feathers rain down from the canopy.
Most of my walks have been in pursuit of wildlife. I have always been fascinated by what lives in the woods and the valleys, in the fields and the hedges, along rivers and the sea shore. I have come to love all wildlife but when I was younger I was obsessed by predators. From dinosaurs to big cats to sharks and crocodiles. There was something about that life ending power that was absorbing and exciting. I had a strong proclivity for claws and teeth!
Growing up in the north east there were no tigers or T Rex roaming the woods and no sharks, crocs or piranhas in the rivers but there were predatory birds and animals on a smaller scale. One predatory bird in particular would occupy my consciousness like no other – Accipiter Gentilis or as it’s more commonly known, the Goshawk.
My connection to this bird stretches back to the mid 80s when, as a ten year old boy, I heard a story from a farmer. The farmer, who was also a naturalist and meticulous observer and chronicler of wildlife, would write a paper on the flora and fauna of the valley we shared a passion for. Sadly, he died in tragic circumstances not long after its completion but not before he relayed a story of an event he witnessed one summer afternoon.
The story was of an imperious bird of prey, a Goshawk the aerial alpha, and a terror to all that inhabited its territory. This day a female Goshawk sat in a tree not too far from the farm. A flock of magpies began to mob and annoy the female (the larger and more powerful of the sexes.) Typically, birds of prey ignore this behaviour knowing the offending birds to be of no threat. The female casually took to flight, heading towards the peace and quiet of the nearby conifers.
The farmer, watching the scene through his binoculars, described what happened next. The magpies followed the female, irritating it further. Suddenly, the Goshawk turned and grabbed a female that had strayed too close. As if to demonstrate its power, it decapitated the hapless crow in mid air, dropping the lifeless body before disappearing into the trees.
And so began a quest to find this most elusive of raptors. Like the big cats I am so enamoured with, the Goshawk is a formidable hunter but very much a secret one. It lives in dense coniferous forests and outside of the displaying season is very rarely seen. This, of course, adds to the allure but I was under no illusion as to how difficult seeing one would be. I needed to become a nature detective and keep my eyes and ears open.
I didn’t want to see one in a zoo or birds of prey centre. I wanted to see one in my native north east, just like the farmer had done. To do so I needed to do a bit of research. Were there any known Goshawk sites locally? What did they sound like (I didn’t know how their call differed from other birds of prey) and in the 21st century, you check Twitter, Flicker and follow the people in the know. I would also read local records online and go and listen to talks by birds of prey experts.
Close to Home
I started my search in a deceptively large wood a few miles from my house. It was a very dark place as the thick conifers shut out the light cloaking the forest floor in shadow. It was very cold without the sun’s warming rays but I felt a pang of excitement as I set off along a circular route which opened my eyes to the size of the place. It was huge! I’d only ever explored the fringes of it in the past and I was certain a Goshawk could carve out a territory without ever being seen. I waited by potential hunting corridors and kept my eyes out for plucking posts. But it was very much needle in haystack stuff and it became evident I needed more information.
A few weeks later I would get it from a landscape gardener and carpenter who lived on the fringes of the wood. He told me there was meant to be a Goshawk nesting in a huge tree in the lower slopes of the eastern side of the wood. Following his directions, I headed to the spot but after sitting watching several times I found no sign of a Gos. However, I did see its smaller and more common cousin, that frequenter of gardens, the Sparrowhawk. Maybe he’d gotten confused since they do look alike and there’s not much difference in size between the male Goshawk and female Sparrowhawk.
Another smaller wood, (which has recently become a nature reserve) yielded all of the prey items a Gos could wish for but no Goshawk. But I did get to know a pair of beautiful barn owls that nested in an old shooting tower. Another ghostly hunter but much easier to locate as it hunts out in the open.
Branching out
Next up was Hamsterley forest. I’d heard people had seen Goshawks there mainly in the displaying season. I realised that if I did see one, it would be in flight. I would have to be extremely fortunate to stumble upon one sitting on a branch. Given its colouration, it would be quite possible to pass by it without noticing, perhaps I’d already had!
I followed the forest paths to wildlife watch points which enable the patient observer to sit or stand in position whilst hoping the local fauna will put in an appearance. Plenty of Roe Deer trotted across the clearing below me and my binoculars picked out many species of birds which spoke of a thriving ecosystem and 2000 hectares of well managed woodland. Goshawk or not, it would be a place I’d return to regularly.
During a visit to the picturesque 12th century village of Blanchland, I got chatting to a resident who claimed to have seen Goshawks just up the road at the edge of Slaley forest. It was on my list of places to visit as I knew there had been sightings and rumours of nesting pairs. Getting information about Goshawks was not easy as very few people claimed to be seeing them regularly and those that did were most likely charged with protecting nest sites and unwilling to give away information that would lead to any unwanted attention.
For the record, I totally agree with this position. The majority of bird watchers are good people with a real passion for birds but even some well meaning birders act intrusively in search of that perfect shot. For me, I just wanted to see it once, that would be enough. I had no desire to disturb it or distress it by encroaching on its nest site.
Although I am sure Goshawks inhabit the mature conifers of Slaley forest I didn’t see or hear one. If you want to hear what a Gos would sound like click below.
Kielder
Then a stroke of luck. My brother pointed out a Goshawk walk at Kielder Forest during the displaying season with bird of prey expert Martin Davidson. We booked onto it and made our way north one Saturday morning in mid March.
Kielder Forest encircles a vast reservoir in north Northumberland close to the Scottish border. It is a beautiful place to visit with lots to do and see. There are a number of conservation projects and some notable success stories with regard to species reintroduction. Ospreys have become an annual attraction whilst Pine Martens have been recently reintroduced into the forest.
As I mentioned in a previous blog, Kielder is one of the preferred sites for the reintroduction of the Eurasian Lynx so it’s fair to say Kielder is an environment in which predators can thrive. At 250 square miles, it’s also England’s largest forest.
Our walk would begin at Kielder Castle where we met Martin and our fellow enthusiasts, most of them armed with long lens cameras. It was quickly apparent very few of them have seen a Goshawk either. Martin was most helpful, patiently answering questions whilst leading us to a series of viewpoints where we might glimpse a Goshawk rising from the trees.
He recounted a number of anecdotes which confirm the fearsome reputation of these birds. There are very few species of bird or mammal which are not potential prey for the Gos. They are apex predators in the forest. Martin also described the differences between Buzzard and Goshawk when high in the air. Lower down you can distinguish the birds by their colours and size in some cases, but higher up it can be more challenging to identify a bird by its silhouette.
The Goshawk has a powerful, compact build. The female is roughly Buzzard sized and from a distance is easy to mistake for the more common hawk. We saw lots of Buzzards and Ravens displaying. This was a good sign. We waited patiently from around 10 am till 12. Goshawks are more likely to display in the morning when conditions are clear and bright. But it was a cloudy day and we didn’t have any luck in any of the spots Martin led us to. He’s as disappointed as we are but everyone understands you’re hoping to see one, rather than expecting to see one.
My brother and I do not give up and we return to Kielder the following weekend. We retrace our steps and wait patiently at each viewpoint. We notice a few Buzzards and Ravens displaying. We both sense an electricity in the air. An excitement, we know there’s a Goshawk nearby. We will it to appear.
We move along forest drive to a short track that rises up slightly giving us panoramic views of the surrounding hillsides. We scan the treeline waiting for movement. We turn back towards the road and a bird rises from the trees across the other side of the valley, it’s neither a Buzzard nor a Raven.
It’s my first ever Goshawk.
We celebrate as it rises on the thermals. A female soon joins the male and we watch enthralled as they soar and swoop for the following twenty minutes. At one point they glide so low we can see the grey colouring against the ground in a clearing between the trees. Flying seems effortless. The overall impression I got was of immense power and fearful symmetry.
And then they were gone, into the vast green ocean from where they had risen. I would come back the following year and see them again in the same spot. I haven’t seen one since. They’re still my favourite bird and will forever inspire that wonder and awe that makes watching wildlife so satisfying.
Further Reading
Two great books on the Goshawk. The former is a wonderful book about a guy even more driven than I was to see the Goshawk. The second is a multi award winning book about a woman who trains a Goshawk following the death of her father. Both are brilliant reads.
Looking for the Goshawk by Connor Mark Jameson
H is for Hawk by Helen McDonald
