Old, dilapidated and long overdue for renovation, The Priory garage and workshop is a magnet to birds seeking a home.
Robins, blackbirds and wrens hop through holes in the rotten doors or missing window panes, to build a nest and raise chicks. A family of robins left in the past few days and I miss their chirping and twittering; the young flitting about my head as I wheel out a mower or heft a bag of compost.
Other birds check the garage’s suitability too but only when the double doors are open. I shoo out swallows occasionally (once I lock the doors they can’t easily get out again) but I don’t notice every casual visitor. The other day, on opening the doors in the morning, I found a dead nuthatch at my feet: I must have inadvertently imprisoned him the day before.
A couple of weeks ago, I opened the garage’s second pair of double doors to help release a great spotted woodpecker who, trapped inside, was banging repeatedly, madly into the window above the wide-open doors. I retreated and watched from a distance as he finally swooped away to freedom.
Then on Friday, during an almighty thunderstorm, I walked into the garage looking for shears or secateurs or a trowel. Actually, I have no idea what I was looking for. As usual, I’d traipsed across the garden to fetch something only to stand bewildered on arrival, having forgotten completely what it was I’d come in for. Still pondering over the tools hanging on the walls or lying on the workbench, I was roused from my confusion by sudden frantic flapping.
In the gloom, at the building’s far end, a male kestrel thrashed his wings against a window. Wet and bedraggled from the rain, he must have arrived shortly before me. As I watched, speaking softly, the bird calmed, stopped his fuss and I ran for my camera.
Unlike the woodpecker, the kestrel didn’t career about hysterically seeking a way out but clasped the sill, gazed outside and then over at me and back outside again. I opened the other double doors and left him alone to find his own way out.
But ten minutes later, he was still where I’d left him on the window frame. We looked at each other for a while. He was beautiful, this hawk, and cool too; though we both jumped at a terrific flash of light and crack of thunder; and with that he resumed his thrashing against the glass. Worried that he’d hurt himself, I grasped him gently with one hand and, cautious of sharp beak and talons, carried him outside. He didn’t bite or scratch and, for such a fierce-looking creature, he was docile, astonishingly lightweight and very soft to hold.
Reluctantly, not wanting the moment to pass – not wanting to let him go at all – I put him on the ground and, instantly, he shot up and off over the east lawn, passed overhead and then disappeared through the conifers above the greenhouses. More cool even than before.
I don’t often see kestrels at The Priory – let alone hold and study one close-up. How depressing it would have been to find him dead, like the nuthatch. Perhaps it’s just as well my memory is rubbish or else I might have walked in to the garage, quickly grabbed what I needed and left without noticing the bedraggled kestrel; and just as likely, locked him inside for the weekend, only to find him lifeless at my feet on Monday morning.
How amazing – and wonderful you were able to save him. I’ve had to leave the potting shed door open recently to let the robins in and out. I don’t mind sharing. Great post.
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Common isn’t it? I had to leave the back door of the Priory open for a couple of hours the other day to allow a juvenile robin to escape – and all sorts of birds are always flying into the open greenhouses. D
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Such a beautiful bird and such a special moment to share, stolen behind natural barriers. Amelia
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Hi Amelia, indeed. Dave
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I’m glad he made it and was so cooperative. I’m also glad to know I’m not the only one who makes circles around the garden looking for lost pruners and shovels and then forgetting what he was doing in the first place…. and then finds something else which needs doing!
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Good grief, but no Frank – you’re not alone. You perfectly describe my working day. D
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What a magical opportunity and great shots. I’d have struggled to take my eyes off the bird long enough to get the camera.
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Always on the lookout for a blog opportunity! (Especially a short one). D
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Lovely story and great pictures too. You were very brave to pick him up.
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Hi Anne, in retrospect perhaps. I just didn’t want the poor fella to break a wing or something silly.
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A beautiful creature, what a thrill for you that must have been. I’m so glad that you were able to release him without harm.
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Hi Eliza, it was pretty thrilling actually for a wet, stormy day. Brightened it up no end. D
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Takes cautious courage to hold a wild kestrel!
Even the doves we rescued in our house, have a vicious beak when you can reach out and touch them.
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Cautious courage or stupidity, Diana. To be honest I didn’t stop to think, so stupidity really. I ought at least to have pulled on a pair of gloves. D
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Dave, this is the most delightful read .. thank you for starting my day off in cold and wet Sydney with such an uplifting story. Jules
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Good stuff, Jules – I’m pleased. Dave
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That. Is. Amazing, Dave. I can’t believe the kestrel let you pick him up. Wow. He looks pensive staring out that window, doesn’t he? He probably forgot what he went in there for, too. (I read somewhere why that happens—something about thresholds/boundaries signaling the brain to set up a new train of thought/forget the old one. That’s all I remember of it…) xS
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You’re probably right, Stacy. He was just as confused as me and grateful for any help, as I would have been. Those thresholds get me ever time. I shall avoid them in future. D
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What a great post! Nothing beats close encounters with wildlife, and there is something even more special about birds of prey. Neil Ansell wrote in ‘Deep Country’ that the day seems somehow more empty after they have gone than it did before they appeared (I’m paraphrasing, badly).
Kestrels are not protected in this country, as a species, although I did read somewhere recently that their numbers are declining. So happy that this one lived to fly another day.
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Yes, I remember reading about a decline in Kestrel numbers – but the RSPB doesn’t seem to know why: http://www.rspb.org.uk/discoverandenjoynature/discoverandlearn/birdguide/name/k/kestrel/population_survival_and_conservation.aspx
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Oh I so enjoyed reading this. Thank you.
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Thanks for saying so. Dave
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Brilliant. Brave man to handle the kestrel like that – and must have left you with such an intimate, strong sense of the bird.
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Thanks Anne. Yes, pulling on a pair of gloves first might have been a good idea! D
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A wonderful post, Dave. The garage/workshop is clearly NOT overdue for renovation; you’d miss so much if it became modern! I guess the kestrel “knew” – wildlife seems to have this extra sense – it was in a safe pair of hands and being handled by an “expert”. Probably reads GN!
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Very true, John. I love that the building is such a haven, and I would miss birds nesting in it (which is why I haven’t fixed the broken panes of glass). Ha! I only saw Garden News after you left this comment and puzzled over it for a while. D
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Fascinating story, thanks for sharing.
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You’re welcome, Philip.
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Such a lovely post to read Dave!
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Thanks Amanda.
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A beautiful, beautiful piece, Dave. What a great way to start the day. Thank you.
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That’s very nice of you, Charles. Glad to be of service. D
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How lovely. Beautiful writing as always. You make me smile. And I do so recognise that feeling of wondering what I have come to pick up….
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Thanks Trudy, I have so many filled pockets in my trousers that I am a walking workshop but I still always forget something. D
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How wonderful, and incredible that he let you help him as if he knew that was what you were doing. Great post.
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I’d like to think so, Christina but perhaps he was just exhausted. I was worried he was going to keel over as birds are prone to when very stressed. D
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What a beautifully written article with amazing photos to boot! Thanks for continuing to share such wonderful things. Clare ps what camera do you use?
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Thank you, Clare. My camera is a Nikon D7000 and, so as not to frighten the kestrel, I used my 300mm zoom lens. Dave
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I love kestrels, so I love that you saved him 🙂 great piece to read 🙂
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Thanks Patricia, glad you liked the post. I really didn’t want to let him go, you know. Dave
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