Weedon’s World
Early October brought two sensational birds to the Peterborough area, at opposite ends of the size range
Early October brought two sensational birds to Mike’s area
It is early November, as I write, and the events of a month ago now seem somewhat surreal. You may recall that early in October, I was overexcited by an ultra-rare inland Radde’s Warbler appearing 4.3 miles from my home, in Peterborough. I last saw that warbler on 6 October, and the next day, as I was going to bed, news came that the famous wandering Lammergeier of Peak District fame may even be in the Peterborough area! This was total madness, but there was irrefutable video evidence, and even a possible roosting locality, in trees by an isolated farm south of the Lincolnshire village of Moulton Chapel (and at least 50m west of the eastern boundary of the official Peterborough area!).
My head was spinning, and after a few exchanged messages, an agreed meeting time of 6.45am (half a mile from the roosting tree) was set up between me and my birding pals Will, Hugh and Chris. I awoke and set off in the dark. The weather was grim, windy and cold, but, thankfully, without the promised lashings of rain. At the allotted hour, the four of us walked up the fenland farm road in the dark, sure in the knowledge that the whole expedition was bound for failure.
I had checked Google Street View and reasoned that rather than the speculated tall poplar, any big raptor would choose the adjacent gnarly pine (with horizontal perches) to roost in. The hurricane continued and from where we were, 300m away, it was so dark we couldn’t even identify the pine, let alone any birds! The wind howled, the sky was as gloomy as my mood, and it seemed very unlikely that a vulture, if it were there at all, would come out to play in such conditions. I was going to have to go home (to work) and miss the action.
Then Hugh (who is famed for his laser vision) casually said: “I’ve got a Lammergeier”. And there she was, hiding in plain sight on the top of the predicted pine! A Lammergeier in a small pine tree surrounded by the vast, flat expanse of the Lincolnshire fens; and certainly inside the Peterborough Bird Club recording area!
Strangely, within 20 minutes of sunrise, the Bearded Vulture, named Vigo (though I prefer to call her Gaia), spread its enormous wings, left its perch, and flew towards us, darkening the dirty-grey sky. Thirty seconds later, it had managed to fly as far as the other side of the pine, and perched again.
And 15 minutes after that, the monster vulture was sitting in the middle of a ploughed fenland field facing the damp mud, hunkered down in the rain; and soon I had to drive home, grinning, leaving the bird there.
The rest, of course, is well known history, but to summarise, later that morning (8 October) the Big One went a little north to Moulton Chapel itself and found a tree to rest in. Then it was seen flying out into the middle of fields to the south, before heading north-west to the village of Cowbit, where it also perched in trees, giving amazing views and roosting in the early evening; when my dear wife Jo and I came to watch it.
The next day I was at the roost site at dawn, and recorded a little film of Vigo (Gaia!) waking up and flying off south-east. And that same Friday, much to the delight of many, the enormous raptor crossed the mighty River Welland and entered Cambridgeshire, roosting in a poplar tree in the field of a friendly, farmer, literally on the side of a road (the same road it was famously and worryingly filmed landing on!)
And, once again, the huge beastie was still in position (on the same branch) to look down on the big (but well-behaved and socially distanced) dawn gathering of admirers from far-flung corners. The weather was much nicer than a couple of days previously, but the young vulture did the same trick of flying to the closest ploughed field and picking at Rabbit/hare carcasses and snoozing.
At one stage, a Magpie repeatedly tried to pluck the somewhat bigger bird’s tail or land briefly on its back! The vulture responded by flashing the angry scarlet skin around the back of its eye back at the little corvid, a behaviour I had not heard of before. But then again, I don’t know much about Lammergeiers. I have only seen two previously, one in Nepal and one in northern Spain. And both in mountainous areas about as far from a flat, ploughed, fenland field as is imaginable.
Oh, by the way, I have seen a Lammergeier 5.3 miles from my home! What a crazy year it has been.
THEN HUGH CASUALLY SAID: ‘I’VE GOT A LAMMERGEIER’