A Flying Visit

Julie and I live in a converted farmhouse, we are often told that this is an English habit.  The walls are thick, making the house warm in winter and cool in summer. It also means that there is considerable space on either side of the glass of the windows. This can offer useful shelves on the some of the windows [une étagère sur le rebord de la fenêtre] but imagine the small windows high up on the walls; the ledge on the outside makes an ideal nest.

Some years ago, two squirrels [try saying that last word ‘squirrel’; probably as difficult for you as saying ‘écureuil’ is for me] used one of these windows as a nest, and when their pups were old enough, they left.

Last year we noticed two kestrels [crécerelles] taking a lot of interest in the abandoned nest. Kestrels are small-sized birds of prey [oiseaux prédateurs] that can hover [planer], fixed in one place. Naturally, we showed a lot of interest in them, but whenever they saw us, they flew away.  They persisted, and we realised that they were converting the squirrels’ nest. In return we tried to disturb them as little as possible. Finally, it became clear that at least one was always present. We waited.

One morning, during an English class, we heard the unmistakeable sound of chicks squeaking. From then on, life at our little window became busier and busier. Another chick had appeared, then another, and there was an almost constant supply of food delivered by one of the adults, while the chicks grew. All of the eggs must have been hatched because then both adults were either absent or delivering.

The window is inaccessible for us without a long ladder, but easily visible from the mezzanine, and now we could watch the activity with no difficulty, because the adults were only there to land and deliver, while the chicks obviously found our presence normal. 

As they grew, space in the nest grew smaller, until one day we saw, to our horror, that some of the chicks were standing on the very edge of the outside wall. Somehow the adults managed [were able] to deliver food, but what about flying lessons? Would they be taught individually, or altogether, in formation? Would some fail the training and fall to the ground?

We never learnt, because one day they were there and the next day they were gone.

After about a week Julie persuaded me to climb our ladder to clear the nest away and clean the window. Happily, we see kestrels flying, sometimes hovering, above the fields around our house. We are quite certain that they are ‘our’ kestrels and they are happy to stay in the area, at home around La Selve.