HARRIER HEAVEN DOWN BY THE HAUGH

Reflecting on the necessity of respecting and protecting the natural world, with a bird’s eye view on the migratory hen harrier

Iknew instantly that something was different about this bird of prey as it swept low across the haugh of my local river on widespread wings. It was slightly smaller than a buzzard and more slender in build, with an underlying agility and elegance. As it veered to one side, a white rump band and dark-ringed brown tail momentarily flashed into view.

This was a female hen harrier and the first one I had ever seen fly so close to my home patch.

As quickly as it had appeared, the beautiful creature was gone, vanishing into the tussocks of rushes

and grasses that grow along the riverside flood meadows.

Hen harriers are scarce birds of prey, nesting on heather moorlands and young forestry plantations in the highlands. In winter, however, they haunt lowerlying areas, such as rough grasslands and marshes.

This sighting brought back fond memories from when I lived in the north-east, where I often saw hen harriers quartering on the moorlands near Glen Dye and the Forest of Birse.

It was the male birds that especially caught my eye, with their wonderful lightgrey plumage and slightness of form that could easily be mistaken for a gull when seen from a distance.

Held aloft on buoyant wings, these harriers drifted in the sky, floating across the moorland with an easy and graceful elegance.

I remember when, on one occasion near Finzean, a

recently fledged hen harrier circled above my head. I couldn’t tell whether it was anxious by my presence or just curious, and, even when I went on my way, the fledgling continued to follow me, making frequent low passes. These are the memories from which dreams are made.

Sadly, all is not well with our hen harrier population.

Prior to the middle of the 19th Century they were widespread across the UK, but when grouse shooting became popular, these birds were routinely persecuted and their numbers plummeted.

While numbers have recovered from their lowest point at the turn of the 20th Century, hen harriers are not nearly as widespread as they should be, partly because illegal persecution still continues to this day.

Hopefully such activities are in decline and will soon come to an end; the killing of scarce raptors is simply not an option for a country that should be setting an international conservation example to others.

Humanity must co-exist with nature.

Rather than continually trying to abuse it, humankind should respect the natural world; otherwise the environment that gives us life will tumble like a house of cards.

I walked further along the haugh in the hope of spotting the hen harrier once more, but it never reappeared.

I have a feeling that it was resting on a concealed fence post somewhere watching my every move, but persistently scanning with binoculars still failed to uncover its secluded perch.

On turning for home, I inadvertently flushed a snipe from a boggy, rush-spiked margin.

It soared high into the sky on rapidly beating wings and slowly became a speck in the

grey autumnal sky.

MAJESTIC: A female northern hen harrier circles the sky with rabbit prey caught in her talons.