Nature notes
Searching for hen harriers and short-eared owls
I’ve been lucky enough to see a moorland spectacle that takes some beating. It’s the sight of both a short-eared owl and a hen harrier hunting over the same patch of land at the same time. What’s more, there was a pair of each species – four birds of prey hunting, oblivious to my utter joy. That early May morning on the island of Jura will live long in my mind.
Of all the British birds, the sight of a male hen harrier (also known as ‘skydancers’) in low, gliding flight, wings held in a shallow ‘V’, over rough, grassy moorland, with mountains as a backdrop; that is my holy grail. This chap is decked out in threads so well toned, I don’t think even a fashion designer could touch it. Mostly grey, with black wing tips, white underwings and a white rump, he sports yellow talons and eyes, just to give the outfit that bit of a kick. A dandy yes, but relentlessly fierce with it. They’ll take pretty much any creature up to the size of a hare or duck, including lizards, snakes, frogs, beetles, eggs and other birds. Their name dates back to when they were far more numerous and preyed on domestic foul.
Alas, that ability to prey on anything, didn’t win them many fans amongst us humans. By the 1940s these ground-nesters were virtually extinct in mainland Britain. They take grouse, and gamekeepers don’t like things to get to their birds first, so hen harriers were persecuted more than any other raptor. After protection was introduced, they made a significant recovery in Scotland and Wales. In England, despite being heavily protected, they’re still regularly killed.
Where you find hen harriers, there’s a good chance you’ll encounter that daytime delight that is a short-eared owl. Unusual among owls in that they are diurnal (day flying), they also have yellow eyes. Their flight has been described as moth-like. The wings flap as if hinged at the body, there’s a strange, stiffness to the buoyancy of the flight. I mention this as it identifies them pretty much straight away once you get your eye in. The plumage is a mottled brown and buff affair, with dark patches on the ‘wrists’ of the wings. Short-eared owls are more reliant on rodents as prey, particularly voles, hence the owl’s numbers echo the boom and bust 4-year cycle that is the pattern of vole populations. They also take shrews, small birds and insects. We have a resident population of short-eared owls in this country, but each winter lowland areas of rough, ungrazed grassland see an influx of Scandinavian short-eared owls. This can often be quite a sight, and I’ve seen up to 10 hunting the same vole-rich area.
Living out on moorland, the short-ear is also a ground-nester. They’ll lay three to eight white eggs. The male will do the majority of the hunting for the chicks, while the female guards over them. There’s no hooting from this owl, primarily they’re silent. But if the nest is approached too closely a shrill ‘keeorr’ sound can be heard. So be warned, in April and May when wandering off-path in the moorland wilds of our land, be prepared to make a wide detour should you become aware of any ground-nesting birds.
The wingspan of a short-ear is around 1m, the hen harrier 1.1m. For scale, a buzzard has at least a 1.2m wingspan. The owl and harrier appear to have longer wings because they are much narrower than a buzzards.
Let me leave you with the memory of a male hen harrier. I was driving on the Scottish island of Islay, something on my right caught my eye. There, 3m away was the above mentioned bird, keeping pace with my slow moving car, its yellow eyes dilated as wide as mine were in a shared surprise. But the real surprise was that it kept on its course, so it was as if I flew with it for those precious ten seconds.
THE SIGHT OF A MALE HEN HARRIER IN LOW, GLIDING FLIGHT WITH MOUNTAINS AS A BACKDROP, THAT’S MY HOLY GRAIL