Dive bombed, ravens and jackdaws

On Wednesday, during a couple of days off, I popped into Aylesbeare to pick up the chough project landrover.  Most of the winter management work has now stopped for spring, so as not to disturb birds nesting, etc.  So, most of the staff and Wednesday volunteers appeared to be working about the yard, carrying out maintenance or updates on the infrastructure.

Then on Thursday, on my way back South, I met up with Ray Piper, the Lantra trainer who had trained us during our tractor course, for a days Mule (the Kawasaki 4 by 4 version) training.  This involved driving the Mule up onto Dartmoor and then through terrain that you would ordinarily consider off limits for vehicles.  It’s all about momentum, top stuff.

Since then I’ve mostly been watching the young pair.  She (Whitebrown) is now spending as much time at base as she is away.  This is a new nest site, and it’s impossible to see where the birds go when they fly into it, but we have to assume that she’s now sitting on at least one egg.  As far as we know none of the other nest sites are at this stage.  This pair, maybe because they are so young, are doing this a little earlier than expected.

Our man, Brownblue, is still having a go at passers by, sometimes even if they are nowhere near the nest site.  As much as this is quite entertaining it means that I sometimes have to explain to people what’s going on, and ask them if they’d be kind enough to let him have his way.  Everyone seems to have an appreciation of the birds (there are information boards on the walks), and are happy to have seen them, so it’s generally a pretty nice thing to have to do.

However, Brownblue isn’t getting things all his own way.  Yesterday I’d spotted a Peregrine about on rocks a couple of times, which the choughs are usually wary of.  Seemingly with good reason, for as they both flew away from the nest site yesterday afternoon, he suddenly twisted and dived, dropping amazingly quickly down towards the sea.  As he went below the cliff line I just managed to catch a glimpse of something dropping after him.  Although I didn’t manage to identify it at the time, I can only assume that it was the Peregrine, as I know nothing else likely to do this.  Anyway, I stood there wondering if it was possible that he might have been caught, or even if he, or his assailant, had not pulled out of their dive before hitting rocks or the sea (they were already flying quite low).  Thankfully I spotted Brownblue on some rocks a few hundred metres down the coast.  He then flew slowly back to meet up with our lady, who had taken refuge on rocks up the slope from me.  They spent some time reassuring each other, and tapping beaks, and I wondered what he must be thinking as they flew off together.