Ospreys on the move...and a bit of myth-busting

One of the sites I check on a regular basis is a few miles away from The Lodge. Croydon Hill (in Cambridgeshire) is located at the site of a deserted medieval village called Clopton. This was once a thriving settlement that is mentioned in the Domesday Book, until, it is thought, it was deserted in the 16th century. Today, the only clues as to its former status are the faint outlines of the village earthworks, which reveal that the former village was built into a terrace on the hillside.

This quiet, green space looks out to the south over the Royston Vale and on a clear day, views extend for almost 20 miles towards the hills of North Hertfordshire. The rough grassland, scrub and arable farmland found at the site act as a natural magnet for migrant birds, and over the last few years, I have enjoyed ring ouzels, wheatears, whinchats, woodlark, gannet (!), peregrine, merlin, grey plover, short-eared owl, redstarts and many others at this site. It is also my favourite site for observing visible migration, where I have often witnessed the incredible autumn migration of thrushes, involving thousands of redwings and fieldfares streaming west through the vale. If I'm not at home at daybreak during October, I'm probably here!

This morning was warm and bright, but with a strong westerly wind that suggested passerines (or songbirds) may be difficult to find (they are far less showy in windy conditions). Nevertheless, I continued on my usual route, checking the copse, ditches and hedges, but it soon became clear that today was unusually quiet - no warblers, no buntings and very few finches. The only real activity involved displaying, wing-slapping wood pigeons and good numbers of gatekeeper butterflies on thistles.

As I arrived at the point where I normally return to the car, a kestrel rose from above the ridge, obediently obeying the rule that you can always tell which way the wind is blowing by the direction in which a kestrel is facing. The truth is that kestrels don't really hover though; they fly into, and at a speed equal to that of the prevailing wind. I muttered aloud ''Kestrel...that's as good as it's going to get today.''

I hadn't taken ten paces before a large, pale-looking, long-winged bird of prey appeared above the hedgerow, less than 30 metres away. Buzzards are common up here, but this bird didn't 'feel' right. I had my suspicions, and when I raised my bins, I couldn't quite believe what I was looking at; white head, broad, dark eye-stripe, pale underparts with dark contrasting upperparts - an osprey! I won't repeat here what my first words were after seeing it! I checked for more detail: the upperpart feathers were pale-tipped, the tail feathers were barred with no terminal band - this was a juvenile. I watched for three or four minutes as it flew resolutely south over the Royston Vale. I was almost shaking with excitement.

I had expected marsh harrier or red kite up here one day, but osprey was an outside bet. If I had been at this particular point at the site two minutes previously, or two minutes later, I would never have seen it - serendipitous indeed (or luck, as I later remarked). As it turns out, I am now marvelling about this bird; wondering where it fledged, where it roosted yesterday evening, and where it will be tonight.

Other ospreys have been seen in the country today: one at our Nene washes reserve in Cambridgeshire, and others in Kent, Essex and Suffolk - many miles from breeding sites, so they are now on the move. So if you are out and about this weekend, don't forget to look up. Nature has a habit of throwing up the unexpected.

Best wishes,

Darren