Goshawks 2016: early spring, a pair on-site again!

Goshawk leaving nesting site,
N Apennines, 1 April 2016

So different from the heat-hazed green slopes of summer, the north Apennines in winter can feel austere and unwelcoming, the naked contours of the land revealed through the leafless trees, sometimes layered with snow, sometimes showing only the pale brown carpet of dead leaves. But by late March, flowers of Cornelian Cherry (Cornus mas)and Italian Maple (Acer opalus) stand out here and there on the hillsides, patches of yellow and yellow-green  among the vast grey-brown expanse of bare beech and oak branches.

Already a bit late in the year, I was resigned to not seeing any Goshawk display flights (and never have done because every late winter visit so far has coincided with low cloud or rain or thick snow), but I still hoped at least to confirm the presence of Goshawks, and perhaps get some idea of the chances of nesting in the side valley used in several recent years.  To hear something would be fine, to see a bird would be great.

I arrived on March 30th to find the hills slightly brighter than the cloud-covered Po plains, with a few moments of veiled sunshine, but it was windy and cold as I set off uphill in the late afternoon.  Nothing seemed to be moving in the silent hills, and the weather was hardly uplifting, but after about an hour I heard a faint and slow "ke--ke--ke" from the centre of the valley ahead.  As I continued uphill, the calls became faster, more urgent, and then a female joined in: "wee-oo, wee-oo, wee-oo". The calling subsided as I reached my destination: the top of a small steep meadow enclosed in the woodland where the open slope allows a reasonable view over part of the tree-filled central axis of the valley, including the area where the Goshawks nest (the only Goshawk nest I've found in the area).  Although the nest itself cannot be seen, nor can the nest tree be picked out from this viewpoint, any calls in the vicinity can readily be heard and the birds themselves can very occasionally be seen in flight.  Any such views are unpredictable and usually fleeting (the adult male may be more active during nesting but seems mainly to arrive unseen below treetop height, and typically heads down the valley from the nest close to treetop height and does not appear in open airspace until a couple of hundred metres downhill).

Cornelian Cherry (left), Italian Maple, flowering in March 

As another spell of calling started, first slow, then more urgently, it was suddenly reminiscent of summer last year, listening to calls around food delivery or wails from young wanting food.  Then at about 19.00 hrs, as the weak late light lifted toward the higher slopes, the calling quite suddenly became more intense, faster and louder, so the single wailing cries of the female for a few seconds turned into a sustained "wee-oo-wee-oo-wee-oo", like an emergency vehicle siren.  I guessed this probably marked a copulation event, which can be noisy and very frequent in the period before egg-laying (see Cramp & Simmons, 1980, Kenward, 2006, and sources therein).

Even without sight of the hawks it is marvellous just to be certain they are there and to revel in the sense of wild nature their energetic calls evoke.  But crucially, I now knew that a male and female Goshawk were present, probably a mating pair, and they were in the precise area of woods where a pair has nested in several previous years!  That was the information I had been hoping to gain, so anything else would be a happy extra.

The following day (Thursday 31 March 2016) I headed up the opposite side of valley on the old track through the woods that passes at one point within about 100 metres of the nest tree (see "Nesting Site" page), then headed off at a right angle to the valley axis up to a small patch of landslip boulders within the woods.  This site does not give a view directly onto the canopy of the nest area but does allow a reasonable view of part of the airspace above it, and allows calls in the area to be heard clearly.  Typically a bird does not fly up straight from the nest but glides far downhill below or barely above treetop level before emerging briefly into view a couple of hundred metres away; such birds are very easily missed.

Distant, but certain Goshawk,
31 March 2016, N Apennines

There were a few relaxed "ke--ke--ke" calls through the morning, and a few short spells of wailing, but I had no clear idea of recent events at the nest when at 11.30 I caught sight of a distant raptor just breaking the skyline of the opposite ridge having apparently risen from the valley bottom some way downhill.  Looking slightly like a scaled-down Honey-buzzard in shape, quite long-winged, large tail fanned widely in turns and twisting one way and the other. Clearly a Goshawk, it stayed relatively low while moving up along the ridgeline opposite and then disappeared out of sight on the far side of it.  I would have bet good money that it had left the nest area moments before, glided a few hundred metres down-valley across the treetops and then started to climb, as the foraging male habitually did in previous seasons. The bird was distant when I first saw it but one tiny image shows a typical Goshawk shape, including the longer arm and narrow hand (relative to Sparrowhawk).

Silence until about 13.00, then more "ke--ke--ke" calls, then faster "kek-kek-kek", then some soft "wee-oo" wailing.  Calls gradually became more frequent until about 13.30, when a loud semi-duet turned into the same fast siren-like "wee-oo-wee-oo-wee-oo" that I'd heard the previous evening.  I guessed this was another copulation event.  Then about an hour later on my way back down to the village, I was next to the track on a slight prominence below which the ground falls away steeply toward the central torrent, and peering past the tree trunks into the open airspace beyond, when I saw a Goshawk gliding through the haze above the wooded depths of the valley, not yet distant and initially almost at my eye level.  Trying to track it as it moved in wide circles (appearing very leisurely but covering a lot of ground with scarcely a wingbeat) I soon lost it, obscured by the dense screen of bare branches rising from the slope below, but saw it for long enough to note a large bulge in the crop.  I could not tell the sex but wondered if this could have been the female, perhaps after consuming food provided by the male earlier in the day?

Friday 1st April, same location. Most cloudy with occasional weak gleams of sun, chilly. Two tractors were in a patch of thinned woodland on the opposite slope, noisily collecting logs cut last summer. Goshawk calls continued as before, with long periods of silence, then spells of low intensity calling, then sometimes louder and more urgent, sometimes apparently both male and female.  But I could not sense a definite pattern and could not visualise possible events in the nest area.  Then, with no hint of any interaction at the nest, a Goshawk was suddenly in the air above the site; it banked rapidly and flew fast but with few wingbeats downhill and out of sight beyond the wooded convex slope below.  I just had time to register the generally pale underside as it banked (ie. an adult bird) then grey-brown dorsally, a few dark tail bands, white alongside the tail base and a dark mask-like patch behind the eye.  Only managed one image before nearby branches got in the way.

Saturday 2nd. Similar phases of quiet and of calling. Mid-morning loud wailing calls and kek-kek-kek calls suddenly from trees close on my right but no bird visible and no bird seen to fly there. Confusing and frustrating! Then one glimpse of a raptor plummeting from that area toward the stream channel in mid valley. During the next hour there were just a few calls, apparently from a bird moving from tree to tree in the nest area, until a little after midday there was an excited "kek-kek-kek-kek" from the site and several seconds afterwards I just picked up a hawk heading for the nest site in a shallow but very fast dive from a point above the lower end of the valley. The bird at the nest site must have seen it approaching well before I was able to. It disappeared into the canopy, possibly a little way uphill from the actual nest site, without checking speed. I had never before seen a bird arriving at the nest site! I could not see if it brought prey, but there were soon spells of "kekking" and some wailing which accelerated to a shrieking crescendo, followed by silence...

So, a very productive visit: calls confirmed presence of Goshawks at the nest site, apparently a mating pair, with a couple of lucky sightings of birds in flight (and on April 1st I heard my first cuckoo of the year!).  If my calculations are correct, working back 75-80 days from apparent fledging around late June/early July in recent years, the female could even be laying during the next week.  Indications are that they may have already chosen to nest again at the known site.  Must not tempt fate but I am daring to hope that things turn out this way, and that I'll be able to listen and look for them at intervals over the coming months.

Cramp, S & Simmons, K E L (eds.). 1980. The Birds of the Western Palearctic, Vol II. OUP, Oxford.
Kenward, R. 2006. The Goshawk. T & A D Poyser, London. (reprinted 2007).

First thoughts on Goshawk identification

Adult male Goshawk: distinctly protruding head,
full body, rounded tail tip, wings proportionally
 longer than Sparrowhawk, clearly narrowed hand.

For a UK birder with no experience of seeing Goshawks, or very little, the question of identification looms large; in particular, how to distinguish the species from Sparrowhawk in flight.  Although field guides and other sources provide plenty of pointers, it can be difficult for an inexperienced observer confidently to separate these species because this often involves subtle differences in proportion or flight behaviour rather than discrete colour and pattern features.

Some sources minimise the purported difficulties and stress how clearly different the two are in respect of several key features; some suggest, perhaps partly 'tongue-in-cheek', that if there's any question over identity, then the bird is probably a Sparrowhawk because the Goshawk stands out by its presence and flight behaviour.  But it has taken me a long time, and many views of Goshawks in flight (occasionally at quite close range rather than a distant dark speck in the sky), to start seeing the differences with any confidence.

Almost all my sightings have been of adult male or juvenile Goshawks; the former typically while leaving the nest site after prey delivery, and the latter as they become increasingly active in flight in late summer.  I have never yet had prolonged views of an adult female (and have never yet been able to watch birds in display because the hills seem invariably covered in snow or cloud or rain when I've visited in late winter/early spring!).

A small selection of sources on Goshawk recognition that I've found particularly useful, beyond the usual field guides, is listed at the end of this post. Orton (1989) has a few words on goshawk field identification: "...the goshawk wing looks proportionally longer than the spar's and is often beaten with a more leisurely stroke...the head of the gos protrudes relatively further...the tail, relatively shorter, spreads to end with a more pronounced curvature..." (slightly abbreviated from paragraph on pp218-219).  Pertinent, concise, and perhaps the most useful short summary available?

In my limited experience, I think the differences in (1) wing and (2) head shape tend to be the most easily seen features in flying individuals, the former usually more obvious than the latter, and aspects of (3) tail shape can provide a secondary source of information.  These structural features are discussed and illustrated below; some non-structural features (plumage patterns, flight style) may be noted in later posts.

Composite image to show some key features for identification.  In Goshawk (right, adult male, June 2015) note in particular: proportionally longer wings, protruding head and wider neck section, width across breast and belly, tail with strongly convex end and here parallel-sided when closed (often tapering).  The head protrudes very little in the Sparrowhawk shown (left, September 2011), the body is slimmer, the tail in this individual is somewhat angular at the corners.  The fact that the Gos shown is a larger bird than the Sparrowhawk can be gauged from the apparent narrowness of the head; the head would in fact be as wide or wider than the Sparrowhawk but appears narrow mainly because the Gos was much further from the camera.

(1) The extended wing appears proportionally longer in Goshawk than Sparrowhawk.  

Both the 'arm' (from the trunk out to the 'wrist' = carpus) and the 'hand' seem to contribute to this appearance, ie. both wing sectors look fractionally more elongated in Gos compared with Sparrowhawk.

Also, the Goshawk hand is typically slightly narrowed in relation to the secondaries (front to back), ie. the trailing edge of the wing tends to show a distinct S-curve, convex along the secondaries then narrower from the first primary outward (see the last post on the thread HERE, last accessed 23.i.16, which presents ratios derived from approximate measurements of images of both species).  This slight narrowing probably contributes to the overall appearance of wing length.  By contrast, the trailing edge of the Sparrowhawk wing tends to show a simpler curve; the section of hand made up by inner primaries is usually less distinctly narrowed in relation to the secondaries, and the primaries overall often look rather like a spread fan radiating from the end of the wing with scarcely any distinct 'palm' to the hand.

Of course the shape of the wing varies according to flight mode, eg. the degree of extension or flexion at the wrist, and age and the stage of moult (so if one or two inner primaries are missing, the Sparrowhawk wing can show a similar S-curve often seen in soaring Goshawk).  Looking at a live bird in flight, rather than an image, it can be difficult to register the narrowing of the hand in relation to the secondaries but it probably contributes to the long-winged impression.

Composite image to show some key features for identification.  In Goshawk (right, adult male, June 2015) note in particular: protruding head and wider neck section, width across breast and belly, tail with slightly convex sides and rounded corners.  The fact that the Gos shown is a far larger bird than the Sparrowhawk (left, June 2015) can be gauged from the apparent narrowness of the head; the head would in fact be as wide or wider than the Sparrowhawk but appears small mainly because the Gos was more distant. The stronger S-curve of the Goshawk trailing edge and narrowed hand can be seen.  The head protrudes very little in the Sparrowhawk shown, the body is slimmer, but the tail end in this individual is quite convex and similar to the Goshawk.  Note also the narrow tail base of the Sparrowhawk even when the tail is closed, in contrast to the Goshawk shown, where the tail is closed but appears parallel-sided because of the greater width across the tail base; often in Gos the closed tail tapers distally because of the wide 'hips'.

(2) The head tends to appear more prominent in Goshawk.

This greater prominence is in part because the neck is often somewhat extended in flight, seemingly reflecting the effort put into active flight or prospecting for prey, and in part because the bill is proportionally larger, both longer and deeper.  The head usually looks less prominent in Sparrowhawk; the neck is not routinely extended and the bill is often scarcely visible.  Hence the distinct flight silhouettes, often described as 'T-shaped' in Sparrowhawk and 'cross-shaped' in Goshawk.  But this typical difference is not fixed: the Goshawk may fly without the neck fully extended, and the Sparrowhawk head can appear prominent if the bird is actively looking around in flight.

On the Sparrowhawk shown (left) the head is somewhat protruding and Gos-like, but does not show the distinct extended neck often seen in Goshawk; the Goshawk (right, juvenile) has the head withdrawn and tilted down a little and so looks small-headed and very like a typical Sparrowhawk in this image.  The Sparrowhawk shows the typical proportionally shorter wing with a slight step between arm and hand, and the hand appears short and not distinctly narrowed; in the young Goshawk the trailing edge shows the characteristic S-curve, with hand distinctly narrower than secondaries.  The Sparrowhawk tail, partially spread, arises from a proportionally narrower base, with a relatively straight end and is angular at the corners.  The hips of the young Gos are not as wide as in adults but the half-spread tail shows a well-rounded end with rounded corners.

(3) In Goshawk the tail typically has a rounded end if closed, and rounded corners if spread.

The tail in Goshawk typically shows a distinctly rounded end when closed, and at various degrees of spreading the outer tail feathers still show rounded tips.  In contrast, the Sparrowhawk tail can look quite straight-ended and usually has squared-off corners whether closed or spread.  The state of moult affects the appearance to some extent. I find it difficult to perceive a consistent difference in relative tail length; some sources (like Orton, cited above) state the tail is proportionally a little shorter in Goshawk (others suggest the opposite).

For brief notes on Goshawk identification, with several very impressive and informative images, see:

http://andybutlerdiaries.blogspot.co.uk/2015/09/goshawk-flight-identification-and.html

Darlaston, M. 2008. That tricky accipiter. Devon Birds 61 (1) (April): 18-23.

Jowett, A. 2004 (?). 3 page discussion of Goshawk identification, available in pdf at www.bradfordbirding.org/ARTICLES/Goshawk.pdf
(note added 30.04.2017: this article apparently no longer available on bradford site)

Orton, D A. 1989. The Hawkwatcher. London: Unwin Hyman.

The Goshawk and the Dormouse

Goshawk prey: Edible Dormouse Glis glis, 12.ix.2012

2012, 12 September.  So far as I could tell, the local Honey-buzzards had all gone south and I was returning from an end-of-season walk in the woods with no particular objective beyond the ever-present wish for a good long look at a Goshawk.

I headed back home via the Goshawk nest site, thinking that now the young have long since fledged, I'd have a look under the nest tree in case wind, rain and other agents had left behind any moulted feathers or prey remains.

No feathers this year, but there was a clean and quite robust  cat skull with a large irregular hole in the base of the cranium.  I'm pretty sure this had been one of the semi-ferals that spread out from the villages, rather than Wild Cat Felis silvestris which is probably now absent from the northern Apennines. I carried on home taking my usual route through the hill woodland, wondering if the cat could possibly have been Goshawk prey or if another predator had by chance left it near the nest tree (this latter seemed far more probable).

Predation site: the Goshawk was behind vertical stems,
left of centre. 12.ix.2012. N Apennines

I'd gone around 300 metres on a diagonal down from the nest tree, across a stream and up the other hillside, idly speculating on what the usual prey may be here, and where the post-nesting adult Gos are now, when a large bird suddenly came up from the ground a few metres away (image above left).  Partly hidden by branches and creepers it was gone in an instant, away downhill through the valley woods. It happened so fast, initially just a vague grey blur, but I managed to retain one imprecise image before the bird disappeared behind vegetation: big, approaching buzzard size, a hint of  dark grey and a white stripe along the head, hint of barring in the tail, flash of white somewhere near the tail base, looking medium-dark grey overall but somewhat variegated and with a brownish tinge. The large size was the main feature. Different colour, different proportions, but approaching Common Buzzard Buteo buteo in size. No question it was a Goshawk, possibly the adult female from the nearby nest.

Goshawk prey: Edible Dormouse Glis glis remains, half
mandible (top), palate (centre). 20.ix.2012. N Apennines

Given that the bird came up from the ground, it seemed likely that I had disturbed it while on prey, and sure enough, a metre or two up the slope were the remains of a small mammal. A still-warm dormouse in fact, which, on the basis of colour and tail shape, was a Fat or Edible Dormouse Glis glis. The upper jaw and two halves of the mandible were discarded to one side but the cranium seemed to be missing, presumably consumed.  A considerable amount of grey-white fur was scattered around the remains.

The strongly arboreal Edible Dormouse is noted for laying down fat during autumn before hibernation , so would presumably be a valuable food source for a Goshawk needing to improve its nutritional status after breeding and before winter.  The dormouse hibernates over winter (between October and May, depending on local conditions) but would in principle be available throughout the summer.  In a long-term study of Goshawk in the central Apennines by Penteriani (1997) this species formed 12% of prey biomass.

So, a close but fleeting sight of a Goshawk rather than a "good long look", but more importantly, a fascinating glimpse into part of the bird's daily life in the woodland! Sooner or later I'll get a good long look at a Gos soaring or displaying, but it's sure to be a very long time before I see one on the ground again. My only regret is that I accidentally made the bird leave a good meal; I hope she returned to the kill after I left.

Penteriani V. 1997. Long-term study of a Goshawk breeding population on a Mediterranean mountain (Abruzzi Apennines, Central Italy): density, breeding performance and diet. Journal of Raptor Research 31: 308–312

(expanded from material first posted to BirdForum)

A longer look at a juvenile Goshawk

Juvenile Goshawk, same location as 2012, 29.viii.2014

Same date plus two years (29 August 2014) and same place, the 'spur' watchpoint, but this time I was looking across the short and narrow valley to the south rather than the long view down the main valley from the spur end.  The day had started hazy and cloud cover was quite extensive by late morning.  Raptors showed early (Common Buzzards, Honey-buzzards and a  Sparrowhawk) but there had been no visible activity for some time when, my attention wandering, I poured a cup of tea from the flask.  I was happily anticipating the first sip when suddenly there were two raptors quite close overhead, evidently they had just crossed from the valley behind me on the other side of the spur ridge.  One large and one a little smaller but definitely bigger than the large Sparrowhawk seen earlier.  Some frustration at first because glare from the bright cloudy sky made it impossible to see colour and pattern, and my camera chose that moment to malfunction.

Juvenile Goshawk (far right!) mobbing Short-toed Eagle, 29.viii.2014

The smaller bird dived at the larger several times but without making contact and without evident aggression; the larger evaded contact but maintained a fairly steady course while looking around as if nervous.  The smaller turned out to be a juvenile Goshawk, the dark-streaked buff breast showing clearly as the pair crossed a patch of blue sky.  The larger was a Short-toed Eagle Circaetus gallicus!  This species seems to provoke quite intense mobbing behaviour in other smaller raptors, but without presenting any obvious threat to them.

My camera finally decided to work again when the two were moving away, but only in time for one image of the birds close together.  Fortunately, the young Goshawk soon left the eagle and came back overhead; the (badly exposed) images show the overall shape quite well but only a hint of colour and pattern.

The long-winged appearance of Goshawk compared to Sparrowhawk, and the long 'hand', narrow compared to the secondaries, are shown clearly; note also the prominent tail, long and spatulate when closed, and the somewhat more prominent bill, head and neck.

The same juvenile Goshawk. Note long wings and narrow hand relative to Sparrowhawk (less clear in image at far right because wings are raised above horizontal); also bill, head and neck more prominent than in Sparrowhawk (again less clear in right-most image because head is elevated). N Apennines. 29,viii.2014.

I could not be certain, but strongly suspected that it was the same juvenile seen soon afterwards in company with a Honey-buzzard Pernis apivorus and a Marsh Harrier Circus aeruginosus (possibly starting southward migration from one of the Po valley breeding sites), but this transient group, although at only moderate height, was several hundred metres distant over the opposite slopes of the side valley.  I was struck then by the strong similiarity in general shape between the Goshawk and the Honey-buzzard, and on several occasions since, when a medium sized raptor has just appeared over a distant ridge, I've been undecided at first between these two species .

First sight of juvenile Goshawk in flight!

Juvenile Goshawk, N Apennines, 29.viii.12. 

Getting to the end of summer 2012, with Goshawk nesting now a couple of months past, I was not optimistic about the chances of catching sight of a Goshawk again until the next breeding season.  Although still hot in direct sunshine there was a new autumnal feel to the days: cooler, breezy, and misty.

On 29 August I'd got out to the end of the 'spur' watchpoint quite late and was systematically looking around over the slopes and valleys below, hoping to find a Honey-buzzard.  I tried to keep an eye also on the sky behind me, over the spur ridge and the valleys either side.  At 10.55, when completing another quick scan behind me, through a helpful gap in the ridgeline trees I just saw a medium-large raptor lift fast into sight from the adjacent narrow wooded valley.  First impression was of a possible Honey-buzzard, with a typical large well spread tail; but as it began to gain height in fast circles, putting evident power into the tight turns, I saw the streaked breast of a juvenile Goshawk!

Juvenile Goshawk Accipiter gentilis, N Apennines, 29.viii.2012. Panasonic FZ45

It was very soon too high for such detail, and too distant for more prolonged study of appearance in flight, but this felt like an important step.  Not only had I just had a decent look at a fresh juvenile, I realised belatedly that even if the adult birds resume their cryptic behaviour there might be further opportunities at this time of year to see young Goshawks exploring their surroundings.  Could this bird have been from the nest whose breeding male I saw several times earlier in the year (about 2 kms to the southeast of the spur end), or from another nest in the local area?

A foraging male, a little less distant

Local Goshawk habitat: wooded hills & small meadows

Same time of the season but the following year, 17.vi.2013, late afternoon I was on the side of the valley opposite my 'white edge' watchpoint.

Looking over the valley from the watchpoint in the morning the sun is rising behind your back in the east.  It is better to be on the opposite side at the end of the day and looking back over the valley toward the morning watchpoint, because the sun will again be low behind your back.  Any birder will know the radical difference in appearance between a bird illuminated by direct low sunlight, and one reduced to a dark silhouette by strong backlight.

Choosing the appropriate slope certainly paid off that afternoon.  The depths of the wooded valley in front were darkening but most of the airspace above was still in full sun.  I had not heard any signs of activity around the Goshawk site, off to my right up the valley, when I caught sight of a hawk rising fast out of the woods, probably not much more than 100 metres away.  I was so surprised I just stood looking, transfixed by the hawk suddenly supercharging the quietening day with energy, and did not consciously tick off recognition points. But I knew it was a Goshawk, and before it headed decisively away up the valley toward the ridges and peaks above I managed to grab a few images.  Happily, although the hawk was as usual too distant, the low direct sun gave the images a bit of detail (instead of being just a distant grey blur).  See composite image below.

Adult male Goshawk, 17.vi.2013, N Apennines.  Heavy crops from Panasonic FZ45.

If viewing this illustration at larger size (left-click) the characteristic dark mask behind the eye is visible on a couple of images (eg. far left, 2nd from right); this dark patch appears more prominent because of the white supercilium separating it from the dark crown.  The step between broad secondaries and narrow hand is almost exaggerated in this individual.  Two typical tail shapes appear in the two images at right, the image 2nd from right shows a closed tail during powered flight, broad at the rump and tapering toward the rounded tip; the tail on image far right is open somewhat, perhaps preparatory to a turning manoeuvre. The image at far left shows the heavy body well, with maximum depth at the belly rather than the breast.  Also note the white undertail coverts, slightly flared here, shown in the image at 2nd left.

Adult male Goshawk (possibly the same individual as 2013), 10.vi.2014, N Appenines. 

I soon learnt to keep an attentive eye on the airspace over the lower stretch of this side valley during the breeding season, and while I could never count on it, I did see a male several times in recent years when the Goshawk nest was active (eg. above, 2014).  It seems he would tend to glide fast down the valley below the nest after leaving the site, sometimes at canopy level for some distance (or below?), before gaining a little height, often skimming the western slopes and then moving purposefully up along the ridge above toward the extensive woods surrounding the local peak.  Curiously, that day back in mid-June 2012 (mentioned in the previous post) remains the only time I have seen the male on his way toward the nest site rather than leaving after food delivery.  I'm convinced that when he brings prey to the nest area he must often approach at or below canopy level.

First strategy: looking for the breeding male

On 13 June 2012 I was waiting at my usual 'white edge' watchpoint (at the top of a near vertical exposure of slumped shaley rock, without trees and so giving a wide view across the valley to the opposite ridge and hills beyond), hoping to catch sight of one of the local  Honey-buzzards.  Suddenly a medium sized raptor flew fast and low overhead parallel with the edge I was sitting on.  Dark against the bright sky I could only see it was an Accipiter and that it was clutching prey, possibly a Blackbird Turdus merula.  Although I didn't get a firm ID I guessed, because of the apparent size relative to the prey, and the fact that it was heading up the valley toward the Goshawk nest site just a couple of hundred metres away (but out of sight), that the hawk was possibly the male of the breeding pair.

Just a few minutes later I was still enjoying the satisfaction of a close encounter with a raptor, while inwardly wishing I'd seen more detail of it, when a medium sized raptor rocketed down the valley in front of me, rose in fast circles above the skyline of the opposite ridge, and meandered in widening arcs - clearly craning its head around looking for potential prey - before dwindling to a dot over the next valley.

Male Goshawk sets off foraging (FZ45, heavy crops, distant bird). 13.vi.2012. Photos show the long-winged appearance, with narrower 'hand' (2nd left) and distinct neck (right).

The shape in flight was different from raptors I was familiar with, but seemed to combine some aspects of both Sparrowhawk and Honey-buzzard.  But the wings looked longer than any Sparrowhawk Accipiter nisus and narrower than Honey-buzzard although the fairly long tail was half-spread and sometimes twisted in flight in Honey-buzzard style.  I was able to get a few low quality images when the bird was already much too distant but these showed enough information for me to conclude that I'd just seen an adult Goshawk - probably the same individual I'd seen not long before heading toward the nest with prey.

That's when the penny finally dropped: I could probably give myself a decent chance of seeing a Goshawk again by observing from the same spot and looking specifically for the male leaving the nest area after a food drop.  Definitely a plan, although it could be confounded by several variables: I didn't know how often food might be delivered, the male might set off foraging on any compass bearing instead of heading down-valley, and he might not fly off above the canopy.

Next day, I did not see him flying toward the nest area but again he suddenly appeared in the mid-valley airspace in front of my watchpoint (left image below), rose fast on a headwind and was soon out of sight over the head of the main valley.  Apart from the relatively long wings, compared with Sparrowhawk, the narrow 'hand' relative to the broad secondaries really stood out in the few images I had time to take.

Adult male Goshawk, the same bird, next day. 14.vi.2012.  Photo on right shows the narrow hand, white undertail coverts, hint of the head pattern (and missing secondary). 

Just having a clue about where to look for a male Goshawk felt like a real step forward.  But a sighting was by no means guaranteed, and if he did show he was always more distant than ideal, too fast, and soon out of sight. And during many watches he did not show at all.  The other obvious constraint was that this approach is only viable when the male is compelled by the needs of his mate and their brood, or subsequent fledglings, to be out and about foraging for food, ie. potentially from late May through to early August.  No doubt the local micro-topography, the availability of an effective watchpoint, and the nest location itself (see pages 'Location' and 'Nesting site' on tabs above) all contributed to the relative effectiveness of this approach.