• Dawn in Late August

    As Summer gives way to the onset of Autumn, the noise of Rooks and Jackdaws becomes the sound marker for dawn. Weeks have elapsed since we heard the last of the dawn choruses of early Summer. Now, it is bird movement which gives rise to noise – Rooks leaving their roosts call to one another as they stream towards the stubble fields and freshly cultivated land. The Jackdaws seem to treat this event as a joyride. In contrast to the steady purposeful flight of the Rooks, the Jackdaws swoop and sport in small groups whilst calling in a loud cacophony.

  • Rookie Rooks

    Whilst I walked out in a Summer’s rain shower, the sky seemed to fill with Rooks. These were not your normal Rooks following their slow, purposeful flight lines from roost to feeding ground, or back again. These were young Rooks. Their flight was erratic, directionless, fast and with no stable height. The purpose seemed to be one of pure enjoyment. The thrill of a new skill. Can Rooks joy-ride? These ones appeared to be doing so. Small groups and pairs wheeled round the sky in a sort of Rook circus until normal business seemed to resume once more.

     

  • December dawn, with Rooks

    As we approach the shortest day, the morning and evening flights from and to the rookery become more noticeable. Numbers are down as the flocks have somewhat dispersed but the slow and noisy trail of wind-tossed Rooks and Jackdaws across dramatic and often stormy dawn skies is worth a pause and a look.

  • Change in the sky

    This weekend the skies are emptier. The Swifts which, for the last four months have blazed around the cottage roofs, have headed south. Or so I assume. In the past, after seeming to have left they have reappeared for a final joyful circuit. Not this year. Although I expect to see some more birds as they pass through from more northerly summers.

    In their place flocks of Jackdaws and Rooks roll around the country gleaning what they can from the newly harvested fields. Jackdaws always seem to me to be positive and high-spirited in their approach to life. Their calls ricochet around the village as they set of in the morning and later, once again as they return to roost.

  • Early Autumn roost

    Dusk. The Rooks and Jackdaws return to roost at Oxnead with a cacophony of noise. Their numbers have swelled. On Sunday night I tried to count them, but soon gave up. There must be 1500 birds or more in the gathering flock. Their flight lines ebb and swell like Starlings. Pouring into the Poplars they continue to call until one certain point when they are settled and silence floats down. The dark descends and they are quiet until first light – or so it appears.

  • To roost

    In nearby woods, the winter roosts of Rook and Jackdaw have started to build up.  On
    Sunday we watched the aerial display of 500 or so of both species as they wheeled, called and wheeled again above wood. Their display is a mixture of indecision and bravado; you could even say there was just plain enjoyment in their formation flying.

    The Jackdaws are the most nimble – they are the sportiest fliers of the crow family (although the Chough, a cliff dwelling crow from the western cliffs runs them very close in this).  Without a discernible signal between them, they rise and fall as one calling onstantly as they go. After ten minutes or more of a roller-coastering flight, a roosting site is chosen and the flock pours like liquid into the wood. The Rooks are slower in flight, but till the collective display is practiced until the declining light forces them to land.

  • Waiting for Spring

    Around dawn this morning dawn, the planet Venus outshone the Moon in the southern sky over Brampton. The skies clouded over rapidly from the west ruining the spectacle.

    Rooks set out in a straggling flock from Oxnead, the attendant jackdaws seeming to burst with their usual excessive playfulness and noise. On the railway line Blackbirds loiter, not quite sure if spring is approaching. There is no song from them – only the Robins have the metal to start what they have finished and their challenging song continues.

    In the cutting a small resident flock of Bullfinches communicate with wistful low calls. They congregate around the thorns waiting for succulent buds to form.

  • September Rooks

    Trying to count flocks of birds in flight is a difficult skill to master. It is a weakness of mine that, if I see a flock, I need to count them. From early September, it is the evening roost flight of Rooks and Jackdaws which commands the attention. In the last half hour before sunset the Rooks head for Oxnead, or to be more specific the woods and coverts that follow the Bure at that place. From a mere 500 in August, now in September the gathering appears to exceed 1000 individuals.

    The slowly winding flock is best seen arriving over their roost with a strong breeze blowing. A force 4 is ideal. The last few minutes are spent riding the up draughts. The Jackdaws are the most nimble, but it is clear that the Rooks are not averse to some minor acrobatics. All this accompanied by a cacophony of what passes for song on the crow family. One of those sounds which are as familiar as traffic, but worth looking up for.

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