This year, for the first time ever, a pair of peregrines successfully raised two youngsters on York Minster. A pair of peregrines have been circling the parapets of the medieval cathedral for some years now and last year they actually laid eggs, but these chicks didn’t survive. So this year's success has been really exciting. I don’t go into the city very often, but now that the fastest animal in the world is there, I've enjoyed trying to spot one perched on top of one of the many gargoyles, or hunting the pigeons close by.One afternoon, I was sorting through some ideas for a commission, when I received an urgent message to ring Jean Thorpe at Ryedale Rehabilitation Centre. One of the York Minster peregrine chicks had fledged from the nest and crash landed. It needed putting back onto its nest high up on the towers without delay. Peregrine chicks are vulnerable at the fledging stage in urban environments. The vertical walls of buildings are trickier for a youngster to get back to the safety of the nest, and to even gain height. It’s not a simple operation, I have learnt, to return a fledged bird back into the nest; so I offered to help.
We drove into the official car park and were met by Jess, a Minster police officer. She took us round to Deans Garden where the bird had, fortunately, landed on the soft grass. Here, I met up with Doug, who follows the movements of the peregrines and posts the action on to the twitter feed @yorkperegrines. He had been keeping an eye on the whereabouts of the chick until our arrival. The chick was perched on steps leading to a recessed doorway, looking quite content. It was quite easy for us to catch, here, as it didn’t have an escape route. Jean went in first with her gloves on, I was close behind as back up, and she soon had it in the hand.
After a quick check it was clear that it was uninjured. Jean put a British Trust for Ornithology identification ring onto its leg, which would enable it to be tracked in the future. We carefully lowered the juvenile bird into a large wooden carrying box that I had brought with me. It’s a box I use when I need to transport young birds of prey. I designed this box myself and it has two doors on opposite sides; a mesh one and a solid one. If I’m letting a bird go I can open the mesh door and let it gradually hop out, with some encouragement from behind if needs be.
Now to the tricky bit: getting the young peregrine back to the nesting ledge half way up the Minster, without inadvertently frightening off his sibling which was perched slightly lower down on some scaffolding. The minster was thronging with tourists. Little did they know that inside the box that I carried was a young peregrine falcon, which would soon become as record breaking in flight speed as its parents. The tourists headed straight on to admire the Minster, but we turned a tight left. I was about to see the Minster from a very different angle from everyone else visiting that day. The police officer led me to a spiral staircase and radioed Steve Agar. Steve has worked as a joiner at the Minster for 35 years and knows the place like the back of his hand.
I followed him up the tightly winding steps, for what seemed a very long way. I arrived at an ancient oak door which led outside onto a narrow walkway. The first thing that struck me was the spectacular views over the city of York. I felt that I had entered the realm of the peregrine. It was very blustery up at this height, very different to how it was down on the ground. But we weren’t here to admire the view, so we hastened on to a passageway around the back of the bell tower. I realised my special carrying box was too large to carry through this narrow space.
I took the bird out of the box and carried the bird instead. He was quite tricky to handle and needed me to use both hands to secure his talons and hold his wings to his body. The bird was safely held, but his sharp beak was embedded in my wrist. I sensed the young bird knew where he was and he struggled to get free. Steve pointed out the balcony where the nesting ledge was situated. I shuffled along an 11 inch wide gap and round a tight corner, keen to get this bird back there. Halfway along there was a metal bar less than three feet off the ground, which strapped the balcony to the main tower. I crouched down to crawl under the metal bar, but realised I couldn’t go any further. I could see peregrine droppings and the uneaten remains of dead prey. They had fledged from here and down onto scaffolding, which currently cladded this section of the Minster. I lowered my hands to the floor and faced him in the direction of his nest ledge. I cautiously released my grip and he was off like a greyhound out of traps, running along the balcony and round the corner to the nest. What a relief!
I shuffled backwards to join the others and headed back down the spiral staircase and out into Deans Garden. I soon spotted him in an archway of the balcony, looking surprisingly calm as if nothing had happened, sporting his new ring on his leg. Mission accomplished!
The adult female was perched high up on a gargoyle. I spotted pigeon feathers floating down beneath her as she finished off a kill. The male went on several hunting missions, returning three times with sparrows to feed to the rescued chick. The second chick called and begged for food, but the adult bird took little notice, concentrating on his sibling that was higher up. The second chick was exploring everything, but was starting to cause some concern, as it was hopping lower and lower down onto different parts of scaffolding beneath the nesting ledge.
His antics took a comical turn when this he recognised its favourite prey - a wood pigeon. He thought he would have a go at it. The hungry youngster walked towards the pigeon calling with its wings open wide. The pigeon braced itself, turning slightly away. But when the bird of prey got too close the pigeon saw him off by hitting him with its wing. The peregrine was annoyed by this strange turn of events and began to call even more. These spats continued for well over an hour and a half, before the pigeon, whose nest was close by, backed down and flew off.
It was half past seven by now, so I headed off home. I wondered if I would probably be back in the morning to retrieve the second youngster who seemed bent on hopping lower and lower down the scaffolding. Sure enough, the phone rang at 7.15am. There was a peregrine chick in the gardener’s yard. By the time I arrived with Jean Thorpe, it had managed to get itself on to the top of a chimney pot of a nearby house. It was getting hungry. The adult male flew low over him with prey in his talons. The chick called frantically, spinning on the chimney pot as the male circled him. The adult did not want to land on the roof and set off back to the minster, seemingly in an effort to coax the chick back to safety. After 20 minutes of trying without success, the male gave the prey to the chick we had rescued the day before. It was easy to tell the chicks apart now that the rescued one had a ring on its leg.
When this rung bird was fed again by the adult at lunchtime, its sibling took flight back to the Minster. It was great to see him on the wing. He flew right over my head. He hovered near the main entrance, losing height as he tried to decide where to land. He missed his footing and ended up turning away from the Minster and crashing into the chimney stack of a nearby house.
He was soon spotted by herring gulls that dive bombed him relentlessly and knocked him across the roof tiles. Peregrines are in themselves large birds, but he was dwarfed by the gulls. The adult male peregrine took to the air. I expected him to retaliate, but he soared higher and higher overhead. The youngster ran back and forth along the roof. He was sick and tired of being constantly bombarded. He took flight and landed back to safety on the minster.
The chicks still have a lot to learn. But I’m confident that they will go far.
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