Flight direction of the male Goshawk leaving the nest

Male Goshawk gaining height at the start of a
foraging trip after leaving nest site, probably
heading for the first ridgeline or the valley
beyond. Note white undertail coverts either
 side of tail. 10.vi.2016

I left the Apennines on 21 June and have since had opportunity to reflect on my attempt over the past few weeks to get more familar with Goshawks.

Quick recap: I found the Goshawk nest by chance in 2008; it was used by a Common Buzzard in 2011, and by Goshawks certainly for six of the seven remaining years (no data for 2009). That's 7 out of 9 years up to and including 2016.  My main hope for 2016 was that a Goshawk pair would again use the known nest and breed successfully.

Visits in March-April confirmed that an adult pair were active at the site and, having listened closely to vocalisations from the nest area in June, I believe that when I left the valley the pair had produced at least one near-fledgling (making wailing calls noticeably 'thinner' and quieter than the adult).  It might become clear later (plan to return mid-July) if there is more than one juvenile, but an accurate count will not be possible just by listening for calls.  If last year is any guide, juveniles may be expected occasionally to fly above the canopy from late July onward.

Given a nesting pair, my next priority was to observe from the few locations on the surrounding wooded hillsides, such as the edge of an old meadow or rockslide, giving some view of the wider landscape and of the airspace above the nest, in the hope of seeing the male more reliably.  I also wanted to try and get some decent images, less distant than hitherto.  As noted in the intro pages (see "Nesting Site" page) there is no view down onto the canopy of the woods where the nest tree stands; closer trees block any direct view from all watchpoints in the surrounding area, but the airspace above the nest site and up and down the valley in which it is situated can be scanned.

Male Goshawk moving along the far slopes of the nesting 
valley  at the  start of a new foraging trip after leaving 
nest site.  Note white undertail coverts and 
bulging crop.  13.vi.2016

It's OK to hope, but best not to have expectations, and essential not to be in a hurry.  The cool rainy or stormy weather throughout June meant that sessions were often abandoned, or I didn't even leave the house, and because of the apparent scarcity of other raptors this year, I spent countless hours trying to stay alert while gazing at wooded hills and an apparently empty sky.  This has its charms, but can pall after a while.

But I did get to see the adult male several times.  The usual course of events was that I'd suddenly hear a loud "kek-kek-kek" call, perhaps a couple, perhaps with one or two "wee-oo" wails, then I would become hyper-alert for the male in flight.  Typically, very soon after the calling (a few seconds or couple of minutes), he would streak away downhill among the treetops in the centre of the valley, parallel to the main torrent in its deep-cut channel.  Variations in the height of trees along the valley might give me a lucky glimpse of him in flight, but often I would only pick him up once he'd travelled 750-1000 metres downslope from the nest site and turned back to fly diagonally up the opposite valley slope and back along the crest, past the nest area and toward the higher woods.  Sometimes, instead of doubling back and zig-zagging up along the crest, he would soar upward, usually fast but sometimes more relaxed, and move off toward nearby hillsides.

Twice he appeared to head straight up the valley slope opposite my usual position before turning to move uphill parallel to the crest, and three times he moved in the opposite direction, more or less toward my usual position and the out of my sight over the wooded slopes behind me. A couple of times I first saw him higher up the valley after an apparent food drop; I don't know if he headed this way straight from the nest, or if he'd taken the usual downhill route and I had failed to notice him before he'd worked his way back up the valley.

The map below attempts to represent this information.  Essentially, he usually leaves low or very low in fast direct flight down the centre of the valley, he will then usually turn to his left (ie. west) and move up over the far slopes of the valley, often directly over the ridge crest, toward the higher outcrops to the south.  Sometimes he would drop down on one side then the other (something like a scaled-up Sparrowhawk zig-zagging along a hedgeline); often he'd move across to the far side and not reappear.  During my observation times he left by this route more often than all the other routes indicated combined.

Sketch map to show initial route of male leaving the nest site. Red dot indicates location of nest; orange arrows represent flightpaths, their width indicates frequency (ie. the male most often leaves down the centre of the valley).  Green lines are contour lines at 100 metre intervals; the land slopes from south to north and rises to over 1400 m beyond the lower left (southwest) corner of the map. Grey bands suggest main ridge features.  Dashed blue lines show hill torrents, draining in general to the north and east. The three green stars indicate location of main observation points (the eastern point on the 800 m contour is the one I most often use). 

There is a location along that ridgeline where trees overhang a stone trackway and patches of partially coppiced woodland; I have several times heard a Goshawk alarm call here and once, at dusk, briefly saw a bird perched over the track that could only have been a Goshawk.  I suspect this is the kind of terrain that the male would often perch on the lookout for prey.

His most frequent departure route means that he is at minimum 700-800 metres away by the time I see him, ie. I have lots more images of a distant male Goshawk.  On the rare occasions when he left low over my position, his much greater relative speed meant that my camera (unsuitable for birds in fast flight) could not find focus before he was out of sight over the woods behind me.  Cue expletives.

Once, I had been in position for a couple of hours, and had just put my camera down and picked up a pencil to make some notes; at this moment the male abruptly rose up from the nest woods and flew directly overhead giving me just enough time to grab only one nearly sharp image (crop shown in the previous post, but here's the image again, below).  There had been no sounds to indicate he'd just delivered food; I guessed that he'd been resting in the vicinity of the nest site since before I arrived in position, having delivered prey some time earlier.  Several images of the departing male show a distended crop showing that he had consumed some of the prey he'd brought.

The breeding male leaving overhead after a food delivery, N Apennines, 30.v.2016 

It is exceptional to see the male arriving and I infer that he typically does so under or within the woodland canopy.  I have only once seen him arrive at the nest area in open flight during the season so far, and only once in previous seasons.  One morning in June I was just getting organised among the broken rock of the old landslip when I heard an unfamiliar, slightly 'croaky' call, and a bird swept past from behind the treetops close on my right. I did not immediately realise it was the male Goshawk, partly because of the call and partly because the flight was unfamilar, with something of a 'fluttering' action: perhaps he was carrying heavy prey (I did not see prey) or could it have been a signal to the female (never read of this, so presumably not).  He flew in a straight line to a point upslope of where I estimate the nest to be located, then a sharp turn downhill and fast descent below the trees in front of my position.