The male shows well at last

The male Goshawk, heading away from the
 nest site, presumably on a mission for more prey.
N Apennines, 21.iv.2017.

Unfortunately, it seems that the local Goshawk pair have not bothered to read the script I'd carefully prepared for them over the winter.  Sightings of the provisioning male, and sounds by both adults around the nest area, have been very infrequent instead of almost frequent and dependable.  It has been a salutary reminder that, here at least, the Goshawk is a secretive and strictly woodland species that lives primarily among the trees.

Based on past seasons (especially 2016) I had been anticipating lots of calling as the female receives food or prevents the male approaching the nest too closely (this picture of the context of calls is derived from literature, not from personal observations, because I do not observe the nest itself, only the airspace above the site, which is in a deeper part of the valley and invisible from the rock exposure I use as a watchpoint).  I had also been expecting the male to be in visible flight more frequently at this time as the food needs of growing young increase.

Wrong on both counts, although events took a turn for the better yesterday (3 June). I have been back in the Apennine valley since 23 May, around a week later than usual, and on each of the past twelve days I have spent up to six hours at watchpoints within earshot of the nest and heard very little calling.  And when the frequency and intensity of calling has indicated a food delivery, the male has often departed from the site within the woods or around treetop level where he cannot be seen from my position; strictly speaking, the notion that he has left is only an assumption if I have not seen him do so!  In some instances he might of course remain in the general area, probably at one of his two apparent favoured perching locations (hinted at by call location; much of the woodland is too dense to move through easily and I have never been able to locate a prey plucking tree or stump as described in standard literature).  I now wonder if the male of this pair is not the same as last year's, perhaps explaining the different flight habits.

Waiting for the call

Any phase of calling from the nest area, but especially if prolonged, at high or increasing intensity, and with both" k-k-k" and "wee-oo" calls, is exciting to hear and brings a period of high alertness: is the male about to appear above the canopy and fly off?

Occasionally he powers straight up from the vicinity of the nest tree (see composite image below) and, after some moments of soaring, usually quite rapid, tends to head off toward the shallow upper valley basin and ridges, all covered in woodland.  He might be in view for several seconds although typically far more distant than would be wished; exceptionally he might pass quite close overhead instead of disappearing promptly in some other compass direction.

More often, he evidently leaves the nest site at treetop level, glides downhill and gains height from a point lower down the valley (occasionally he appears from higher up instead).  Then one has to be both lucky, to be looking in the right direction, and wide awake, because a distant bird moving low against a wooded background can be almost impossible to see.  In these circumstances it has often been the eye-catching white undertail coverts, which, if flared, are visible even in dorsal view on each side of the tail, that give away its location.  Comically, I have often found my head swivelling around seeking a Goshawk because my peripheral vision has just picked up a flash of white that turns out to be a Wood Pigeon's wing, the white rump of a Eurasian Jay, or even a white butterfly.  One major difference from the male of previous seasons is that this year's male seems habitually to fly with his undertail coverts fully tucked away instead of flared; perhaps he is more relaxed or perhaps the white coverts are physically smaller?

The same male Goshawk, powering directly up from the nest site in the valley below, before circling and heading off over the wooded slopes above. N Apennines. 3.vi.2017.

Some good fortune

Yesterday I was late to the watchpoint but at almost 9.00 exactly was just about to scramble up the rock exposure on which I perch when a clear "kek-kek-kek" call, not intense but not relaxed either, came from the wood below.  Very promising.  Then a quiet "weeoo" wail call, presumably from the female.  Then more of both calls, more intense, and signs that one or both birds were moving in the area around the nest tree.  Very very promising.  Then the male was up right over the site!  He powered upwards, turned in a few fast soaring arcs, moved down the valley and then turned back upslope toward the upper basin and then angled over the woods above the landslip scar behind me and set in a fast glide out of sight beyond the convex wooded slopes above.  So, one of few sightings so far (and still no glimpse of the female), but satisfying because he was in view for several seconds: enough to enjoy again the sight of a real live wild Goshawk over his home woods and to get a few reasonable photos.

Not very long afterwards, about 10.45, I started to hear occasional quiet and soft weeoo wails from the female.  These continued at intervals, with some very faint k-k-k calls between, without any obvious interaction between two adults, until 11.14 when by chance I picked up the male soaring above the opposite ridge way down the valley.  It was "by chance" because I had not been aware that he was back in the vicinity.  This time instead of that sense of urgency that seems to typify most of his actions, he was soaring slowly, in wide arcs, almost as relaxed as a Honey-buzzard (and not too dissimilar in shape, in fact I have confused the two in similar circumstances).  He continued moving upslope over the opposite ridge, then moved across and was lost to sight on almost the same course as earlier.  I could only speculate on events: perhaps he had already brought prey and both he and the female were too satiated to get worked up about insufficient food, or the male proximity to the nest, or whatever the usual cause of loud interaction may be?

The same male Goshawk: heavily cropped from images taken as he flew across the woods above my observation position, around 300 metres distant. N Apennines, 3.vi.2017.

Apart from providing a couple of memorable episodes in open flight (yesterday, and 21 April - see previous post) this bird has reminded me that Goshawk are woodland birds: on one occasion I had no idea of his whereabouts, in the valley before me or miles away, when I caught a glimpse of him flying fast across the bottom of a sloping patch of meadow on the opposite valley side, from one wood edge to the other.  He had been either moving through the canopy and took a direct line across the intervening meadow, or he might have been using what is effectively a tunnel through the woods formed by over-arching trees flanking an old-established stony trackway that passes the meadow on its course up the valley.  Had it not been for that brief sight in the open I would have had no idea he was in the area: I could have been staring at the woods for another six hours and been none the wiser!

With enough time and patience the chance of more encounters should improve, given that the food needs of the chicks, that I assume are present, can only increase.