Kestrels

The very first thing I praised was buzzards. Which I love, and still feel privileged to enjoy - particularly the ones with a great billet in the copse up near the Kemberton reservoir, who use the contours of the field for their hunting, swooping down just above my head.

However, I've seen at least one buzzard on 350 or so of the 400 days since I wrote that praise. So I've come to take them a bit for granted. Plus I haven't felt entirely the same about them since Daryl told me the story of them attacking one of his friends.

A kestrel, on the other hand, is a rare treat. And one was in full hover this morning as I went for the paper, and on the way back. They particularly like the telephone lines that stretch across 'lamb-chop field' just down the lane, a perfect hunting roost. But I don't think they live long. I'll see one there for a week or so, and then not again for another six months. Unlike the buzzards, I certainly don't know where they nest. So, they're well worth stopping to watch and enjoy whilst the Shifnal commute/school-run dawdles along all around...


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