Introduction and Rookeries

Introducing me.....

Having for some years written a monthly Nature Notes piece for our local newsletter which is likely to close, I was at a loss. The requirement to get out and about in order to have something fresh to write about has been a valuable stimulus. In my advancing years with reduced mobility and vitality I needed the catalyst so I’ve decided to produce a blog to keep me going.

We moved to East Cornwall over 50 years ago, and inevitably have noticed changes in the countryside and wildlife around here and in the wider SW; some losses, some gains.

Situated halfway between the south and north coasts of Cornwall, and in fairly rural countryside midway between the Tamar and Lyhner rivers we are in a good position to take off in any direction, from sheltered mossy sunken lanes to dramatic rocky coast.

Although we’ve got quite a big garden, about twenty years ago we were persuaded, I’m not sure why, to take on a small allotment near another village in the parish. It’s about two miles away, down in the Tamar valley, a good contrast with our garden which is perched nearly 600 feet up on the NW side of Kit Hill, a local landmark.

The situation of the allotment field is peaceful and it’s a pleasure to lean on the fork and gaze at the view, perhaps to listen on a wild and windy day to a Mistle Thrush in the top of an oak, singing lustily. He’s well-named Storm Cock.

View from the allotment: Tamar valley on a frosty morning

The wet and windy life of a rookery.

As a kid I grew up with the constant background of cawing rooks in a huge rookery in tall elms at the bottom of our road in what was then rural Hertfordshire, so now I’m taking a special interest in one down the lane here.

About six years ago a few rooks established a rookery ‘splinter group’ about half a mile from a bigger one down in the village. Over the years we have watched it develop from a couple of nests to, last year, 22. Over winter about 9 ragged remains hung on until the February storms of Chiara and Dennis when they were all blown out and demolished. We were afraid the birds would desert but no! During the past couple of weeks they have been back in strength and so far from a tentative five clusters of twigs there are now fifteen robust nests and plenty of comings and goings.