Second Toughest In the Infants

It was one of those days today when it paid to be layered-up. Sun out equalled summer, yet when it dipped behind the clouds, the cold claw of autumn was firming tapping you on the shoulder.

Today being WeBS day, I was back out on the White Sands area of the Dee Estuary on my first anniversary of taking up this area. I’ve had some great birds over the last twelve months, my personal highlight being a count of twenty seven Short-eared Owls last winter.

The tide was very high this afternoon, although not as high as during the night when the only 10 plus metre tide of the autumn was scheduled. Evidence of this was present in the form of numerous small pools that has formed at the base of the marsh, many of which played host to hundreds of Redshanks.

It was when counting the birds in one of the flashes that I caught sight of a hunting juvenile female Peregrine trying to nail a Teal. Although not managing to grab the hapless duck in its talons, it had succeeded in striking the bird several times rendering it severely injured. When it finally issued the coup de grace and had returned to enjoy its quarry, an opportunistic Great-black Backed Gull swiftly moved in and claimed the meal for itself. The law of the jungle, I guess.

I doubt the falcon had been going without though. Whilst I was walking along the breakwater I happened across remains of two Woodpigeons and one Feral Pigeon. Each had had the head torn off and the torso completely had been completely consumed. The female of the species is indeed more deadly than the male.

I suspect that the falcon was one of the two juvenile Peregrines I had seen during my last visit. The birds were hunting then, albeit more clumsily. Clearly over the last month at least one of them had made significant progress in the journey from apprentice to master. Soon it may well be ready to take up its position as matriarch of the estuary – ruler of all it surveys.

Quite simply, a misty winter’s morning on the Dee Estuary would not be complete without the sight of a Peregrine perched on a lookout post. Ever alert, tense, twitchy, these falcons are always poised, ready to dispense death on the wing that is both thrilling and essential. And don’t we just love it.

Until later.