Kestrels

Well whatever they do I see them doing a great inpersonation of a hover almost every day just at the bottom of the road from my house.

Will come back and read the blog later.

Have checked Cambrigde online dictionary for definition of Hovering.

                         "To stay in one place in the air, usually by moving the wings quickly. "

So, if the Kestrel remains in one place in the air surely it's hovering, regardless of the means employed, i.e. using the wind or muscle power alone.

Susan

Hi Soosin and Paula,

This line is taken from the Collins guide to british birds.... The species habitually hovers where lookout perches are not available, scanning the ground for small mammal prey.

Graham

I did find this on a web site about kestrels

The Kestrel is a true falcon, but it is unusual in its flying style & prey. Like most birds of prey, its preferred method of finding prey is still-hunting, when hunting in flight it is unique in being the only bird of prey to be able to hover. Kestrels "hover" facing into the wind, so they are moving through the air, but staying stationary with respect to the ground, this is called "wind-hovering". The oncoming wind gives sufficient lift to remain stationary with respect to the ground, the tail is spread, supplementing the air-catching effect of the wings, the alulas (feathers at the front bend of the wing) are raised & wingtip feathers separated to reduce turbulence which would cause stalling at such effectively low speeds.

Hi Soosin

Can't remember where but I read that Kestrels are the only known birds of prey which do hover. So, you are right.~(:0)

Thanks to you all for taking the time, to respond,  I suppose the same applies to Skylarks as well then.

Dont mythbusters just annoy you,, First there'no Santa, , then no tooth fairy, now kestrels don't hover,(on their own), there's just no magic anymore lol

Susan

As well as kestrels, terns and hawks also 'hover', and I believe Kites do too.

Sorry - pressed the wrong button on the last post!  I remember the word "windhover" from my A-level English days (1960!!).  It is the name of a poem written in 1877 by Gerard Manley Hopkins, and he said it was the best thing he ever wrote. The notes in my book give "The windhover, or kestrel..." so it must have been a common alternative name.  Hopkins compares the bird to Christ - strength, power, glory, beauty etc.  You can stop reading here, if you like, or you can read the poem - I know that quite a few of the osprey-watchers enjoy poetry. Better still, read it out loud. It's not easy to understand, so I'll give a 'translation'.  Forgive me if this seems patronising - once a teacher, always a teacher.

The Windhover

To Christ our Lord

I caught this morning
morning's minion, king -   
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding   
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,   
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding   
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here   
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.

This morning, I caught sight of morning's darling, prince of daylight's kingdom, the falcon drawn against the dappled dawn, riding upon the level steady air which rolled beneath him, and striding aloft - I saw how he seemed in his ecstasy to hang upon his rippling wing, like one pulling on a rein!  Then off he flew like the heel of a skate sweeping round a bow-shaped curve: his plunging and gliding seemed to push back the wind. My heart, unseen, responded to his achievement and mastery.  At this point your animal beauty, your valour, and your action seemed to bend or buckle, O air and pride and plume! and the fiery red dawnlight which then is reflected from you, O my prince, is a billion times lovelier than ever! And no wonder, for the mere plodding of a plough-horse makes a ploughshare gleam as it cuts the furrow; and the cold grey-blue embers of a dying fire, O beloved one, as they fall, split open and reveal a gash of red-hot gold.

Read it again - it gets better every time!  I've just seen a lot in it that I hadn't before.