The sparrowhawk is one of the three most common birds of prey in Britain but unlike the soaring buzzard and hovering kestrel, it is rarely seen well. Often, sightings consist of a fleeting glimpse of a brown or grey streak dashing through our garden in search of prey, gone before we can get a good look. Sparrowhawks are occasionally encountered in Hob Hey Wood, too, a seemingly ideal habitat for them. I’ve previously assumed that they bred here, but had no evidence, until…
In July 2019, I saw several, very noisy, juveniles in the southern part of the wood, calling from perches high in the trees, begging for food. This was the first evidence of breeding in the wood, and absolutely fascinating to watch, despite me not finding the nest before fledging. I resolved to look harder during the next breeding season.
In early April 2020, with few leaves on the trees, I spotted a sparrowhawk collecting sticks and the next day found the nest that it had been building. The nest was very high in a horse chestnut, nestled in a fork of branches. The nest increased in size over the next few days ending up as a large, untidy, cold-looking shelter. On one of my visits, I was fortunate to see the male feeding close to the nest. The male is a handsome bird with a slate grey back and reddish breast and that piercing yellow eye. Whilst feeding it looked less than lovely, however, covered in blood and gore from its kill. Having spotted the male near the nest, I had high hopes that they would breed successfully.
The nest was visible from the path so I viewed it every day as I passed and saw… nothing. No birds flying around and none visible sitting on it. After a couple of weeks of apparent inactivity, I decided that the nest had been abandoned.
Then, in early May, I found the female perched on top of the nest in full view of my binoculars and camera! I got wonderful views of this beautiful bird as she moved around, possibly turning the eggs that she must have laid, occasionally staring at me with that basilisk-like gaze. At twice the weight of the male, the female is an imposing bird with the power to take down an adult wood pigeon. That sighting with the confirmation that there must be eggs, made my day.
This wasn’t the start of a series of exciting views, however. For the next few weeks, all I saw was either the female’s tail sticking over the nest or her head peering over the top; not exactly thrilling viewing!
All around the wood, small birds, prey of the sparrowhawks, were feeding their young. As time went on, the young nuthatches, blue tits, woodpeckers and others left their nests, taking their first tentative flights whilst still being fed by their parents. I’d read that sparrowhawks time their eggs hatching for when their prey fledge, giving the hungry sparrowhawks plenty of easy prey so I was expecting to see sparrowhawk chicks any day now. But nothing. I was starting to worry that the female was sat on a sterile clutch.
Finally, at the end of June, I got the news I’d been waiting weeks for. As I got to the wood, I could hear the sparrowhawks calling. The male is not allowed near the nest so when bringing prey to feed the female and any chicks, he calls to his mate and she goes and collects the food. I saw the female clutching prey with the male looking on nervously a few yards away. As I got to the nest I noticed movement, something fluffy and white bobbling around, probably hungrily awaiting its meal. There were chicks in the nest! So, six weeks after first spotting the nest, I had confirmation that the eggs had hatched. The photos were poor, but amongst my favourites I’d taken in months.
The hatching of the chicks coincided with some of the worst weather we’ve had in months and the most brilliant thunderstorm seen for years. Through all this, the female protected her brood with her broad back and wings, sheltering them from the elements whilst being herself exposed to the cold and torrential rain. Imagine being 50 foot up a tree during that storm? No thanks…
During this period, it rained almost every day so I often saw the female on the nest protecting her young. During dry weather she would be off hunting and I could see the chicks regularly and find out how many there were. At first, I saw one chick, then two, then three. Finally, in July, I discovered that there were four chicks! Fifty percent of sparrowhawk nests fail completely so to be raising four chicks is an impressive achievement by the Hob Hey pair.
The juveniles’ development was extremely rapid. Within two weeks they went from little fluffy balls of cuteness to having proper feathers and standing tall and regal in the nest. One of my friends, upon seeing a photo, described them as ‘adorable in a murderous sort of way’ which I felt was very appropriate!
By the middle of July, the juveniles were almost completely grown with just a bit of down remaining. I took many photos at this time as they explored their nest and immediate surroundings. At least two were females and huge. No longer could they be called adorable, but the ‘murderous’ part of my friend’s description was still very apt…
The nest by this time was a disgusting foetid mess. Rotting meat was scattered about and the area was stained with guano where the birds had missed with their ‘projectile pooing’ over the side of the nest. Each photo I took showed several flies buzzing about; I could just imagine how bad that nest smelled!
I knew that it would not be long before they fledged and on 16th July, I saw one fly out of the nest, hopping about the upper branches whilst exercising her wings. She was joined by another bird soon after; this pair were flying. Sparrowhawks remain near the nest after fledging so I knew I’d have a couple more chances of a photo before they dispersed.
On 22nd July I entered the wood and immediately heard juvenile sparrowhawks calling all around me. I spotted one feeding just a few yards away, others were scattered across the wood. I knew what I’d find when I got to the nest and, indeed, it was empty! The Hob Hey Wood sparrowhawk pair had successfully raised four healthy chicks which left the nest!
I was really pleased with this success but also a bit sad. I’d watched these birds on an almost daily basis for three and a half months, sharing intimate moments like the eggs being turned, chicks being fed, a food pass and the juveniles’ first tentative exploration of the outside world. My daily sparrowhawk fix had become a highlight of my day and now it was no more. Ah well, there’s always next year.
I knew that there were now four ‘new’ sparrowhawks in Frodsham that will be looking for new territories to live and breed. Their life will be hard, however, and many juveniles die in their first year so I am keeping my fingers crossed for them. Perhaps one will visit my garden to say hello…
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