Getting Your Eye In

There is something about open country that draws birds of prey as surely as it draws those of us who like to watch them. Moorland, rough grazing, wetland edges and the patchwork of pasture and arable that makes up so much of the British uplands offer exactly what these birds need: wide sightlines, updraughts and a reliable supply of small mammals and birds. For the observer, that means the chance to follow a hunt from start to finish, often without moving more than a few steps.

The trick is not to charge about hoping for a lucky encounter. It is to find a bit of high ground with a wide view, tuck yourself against a wall or a gorse bush, and let the landscape come to you. Give it half an hour before you expect anything. Most good raptor watching begins with standing still.

The Kestrel: Hovering on the Wind

Your first and most reliable bird is likely to be the kestrel. It is our commonest small falcon and it positively thrives alongside people, hunting the grassy verges of motorways, the edges of arable fields and the tussocky margins of upland pasture. Learn its silhouette and you will see it everywhere.

Watch for a small, warm-brown bird about the size of a magpie, sitting on a wire or a fence post with the characteristic habit of repeatedly bobbing its tail downwards. Then wait. A kestrel on the hunt will often launch into a hover perhaps ten to twenty metres up, head held perfectly still against the wind while the wings beat in quick bursts. When it drops, it drops hard and fast, and it rarely misses.

• Males (sometimes called cocks) have a blue-grey head and tail, with a rich rufous back spotted with black.
• Females are browner overall, with the tail barred rather than plain.
• The longer, more pointed wings than a buzzard, and the habit of hovering, are the clinchers in the field.

Voles are their bread and butter, so rough, tussocky grass and banks choked with field voles are your best bets. Damp corners, road verges and young plantations all suit them well.

The Buzzard: Master of the Thermal

Buzzards are now the default large raptor across much of Britain, a genuine conservation success after decades of persecution and pesticide poisoning. On a bright, still morning with a bit of warmth in the air, they begin to soar, drifting up on columns of rising air with wings held in a shallow V and a slow, mewing call carrying across the valley.

From below, look for broad, rounded wings and a short, fan-shaped tail. The birds are beautifully variable — everything from a dark chocolate-brown to a pale, almost whitish individual — but the shape is constant and quickly becomes second nature.

Don't be fooled into thinking they only eat carrion. A hunting buzzard will also quarter low over fields, dropping onto rabbits, voles, worms, beetles and the occasional young bird. The classic perch is a fence post, a dead tree or a telegraph pole beside a field. If you find one bird on a post and another circling overhead, you are probably looking at a pair working the same patch.

The Hen Harrier: The Upland Ghost

The hen harrier is the bird most of us hope for and least often see. It is a bird of moorland and rough hill ground, seriously scarce in England, and a genuine thrill wherever it turns up. The best months are late autumn through winter, when birds come down from the hills and gather at communal roosts on lower ground.

Watch for that distinctive low, quartering flight: a bird flying perhaps two or three metres up, wings held in a shallow V, regularly tipping and turning as it follows the contours of the ground. It looks, quite literally, as though it is skimming the heather.

• Adult males are pale grey with black wingtips — almost gull-like from a distance.
• Females and young birds are brown with a striking white rump patch, and are often called "ringtails".
• The white rump is the single most useful field mark. Get that, and the identification is nearly certain.

Scan the edges of moorland, the flanks of hills and young conifer plantations. On a still, cold afternoon, sit quietly where you can see a broad sweep of rough grass and simply watch. Patience is rewarded here more than anywhere.

Binoculars, Field Craft and a Bit of Patience

Good binoculars matter. A pair of 8x42 or 10x42 roof-prism glasses is the sweet spot for open country: bright enough in dull light, steady enough in the hand. Keep the strap short so the binoculars sit high on your chest, and brace your elbows against a gate, a wall or your own ribs before you raise them.

Learn to look with the naked eye first. Find the bird, then lift the binoculars without taking your eyes off the spot. That single habit will save you more missed birds than any other piece of advice.

• Go early or late. Raptors hunt hardest in the first hours after dawn and the last couple before dusk.
• Mind the wind. Approach into the wind where you can, and stay low on the skyline.
• Wear dull colours and move slowly, stopping often.
• Keep notes. Date, weather and behaviour build a picture of your local patch over the seasons.

Give a kestrel five minutes, a buzzard twenty and a hen harrier an afternoon. That is the real secret of watching birds of prey in open country: time, quiet and a willingness to let the landscape do the work.