For as long as I have been a regular visitor to Cambridge (nine years now), there have been peregrine falcons breeding in the city centre. The same pair have raised chicks every year since 2017 on a lovely stone building, looking down on one of Cambridge’s busiest streets. Buses, vans, lorries, students, bicycles, tourists and all of the city’s life-forms pass by the peregrine eyrie in their thousands; most of them don’t notice the falcons and the falcons don’t pay much attention in return.
(The times when the peregrines do draw attention are when there’s noisy mating in spring, screechy juveniles play-fighting or when one of the chicks takes its first flight and falls onto the pavement.)
If you look carefully around the birds’ favourite buildings, there are often tell-tale signs at street level: a pigeon head here and there; woodcock carcasses in winter; the feathers that give away what’s been plucked and eaten up above.
(There’s a thread here on the birdsite which explains the whole backstory.)
After years of watching these peregrines - in the same places, on the same perches, doing the same things - everything changed last month. An adult falcon was found dying in the River Cam. She was taken to a nearby veterinary surgery but couldn’t be saved. It was the city centre’s resident female.
In this peregrine-loving house, tears have been shed. A familiar face that we might see at any time in Cambridge won’t be there anymore. “Mrs P” has gone.
For a while we didn’t know what had happened but remarkably, someone had managed to film her falling into the river from St John’s College! Another adult peregrine was on the roof above, so it seems that this was a territorial dispute that ‘our’ bird did not win. Perhaps this intruder was the bird seen four days later, being dive-bombed by the male.
We’d hoped Mrs P might have been able to be displayed in Cambridge’s Museum of Zoology, but she’s had to go off to Defra to be tested for avian influenza and she might not come back. As someone fascinated by feathers, and who’d have loved to have seen her inspire future museum visitors, this feels very disappointing and not a fitting end for such a magnificent bird.
The saving grace is that this breeding season was a success, and four young Cambridge peregrines fledged successfully - more than any other year. It makes a total of 19 youngsters raised since 2015, so it’s likely that her genes live on somewhere. Mrs P was probably at least two years old when she laid eggs on the University Library in 2014, which would make her a minimum of 11 years old. Not a bad age for a wild peregrine.
Meanwhile, her mate is alone in Cambridge. It’s likely that won’t be the case for long, as ‘intruder’ falcons pass regularly through his urban territory. He may well find a new partner. Fingers crossed for more peregrines hatching in the city next year.
The art part
These black-tailed godwit linocut prints (handmade! limited edition!) have been spending some quality time on my clothes airer in the spare room (my ‘studio’ is too small for a proper drying rack). The ink is oil-based so lovely to work with, but it does take a very long time to dry properly when several layers of ink are overprinted.
When they’re ready and available to buy in my shop (hopefully in the next week), I’ll share a special discount code for subscribers.
I often use the ‘reduction’ method of making a multi-coloured print. That means I use one piece of lino to print all the colours in sequence from light to dark, cutting it away gradually. By the time the prints are finished, there’s not much of the lino left. Another time I’ll show you what I mean.
Bring me rain
I enjoyed this post from Rose George this morning:
I’ve reached the stage where I get almost as excited about potential rain in the weather forecast as I do about snow (I live in East Anglia, which is very dry - what can I say).
All too often the rainfall radar shows stormclouds skirting around where I live, so I have relished the past few weeks of relatively frequent rain. Much happier with this than with 40 degrees C and weeks of drought like last year. Often I say “ooh, the garden needs it” but really it’s for me.
The only disadvantage at the moment is that lots of tiny froglets take rain as their cue to leave our pond and me walking outside is a risky business for all parties.
I’ve got my eye on…
…hollyhocks growing in other people’s front gardens. I’m keeping an eye on them to check when I’ll be able to pinch some seeds.
The middle ones are at the Salvation Army, where they always have a good show of bee-friendly flowers at this time of year. Outside someone’s house I spotted some bright pink hollyhocks with white centres which I like, but I would probably have to knock at the door to get some seeds.
I have a few hollyhocks growing at home already but they are an insipid shade of yellow and a dull pink. I want MAGENTA!
Ever helped yourself to any seeds? Tell me about it.