For a couple of years I had noticed a steady passage of Red Kites passing overhead in the half hour or so before dusk.
There were never more than 2 together and off they would go into the distance, but every time I looked up I was seeing another one following.
All were heading in the same direction and when I glanced back from where they had come there would frequently be a distant speck that turned out to be yet another Red Kite.
Presumably, they were going to roost so over the coming months I set out to try and find where they were going. They seemed to all be coming from the general direction of Shamley Green and roughly following the course of Cranleigh Waters.
But with so much private land, finding out their nightly roost was not easy and with many other birds to be seen, I put my mission on hold for a season. With Spring well on its way the spectacle was tailing off anyway.
This last winter I was walking along a public footpath at another spot and noticed a Red Kite arriving from the north. Another soon followed it. Behind the trees silhouetted against the pink sunset there were large birds moving in from the west.
As they emerged to give a good view I could confirm they were also Red Kites. I glanced south and three more were arriving, circling around a growing flock of near on 20 birds.
I’d never seen so many together in Surrey and I was still counting. Others were joining the congregation from the south and the east. Indeed, every which way I looked there was now a procession of birds, drifting in with hardly a flap of the wing to join the growing Kite flying festival.
All this was accompanied by a growing early evening chorus from laughing Green Woodpeckers, flocks of various excited Geese, and streams of squeaking Redwings dashing for cover as if they feared they were on the raptors’ supper menu.
The Red Kites though, were mostly silent and only the odd one gave the occasional, gentle ‘mew’ call familiar to those of us who enjoy seeing their buoyant displays as they check out our gardens for prey.
At one point they wheeled quietly en masse straight above my head, reminding me of Griffon Vulture behaviour. Trying to count them proved difficult as they constantly spiralled while new arrivals continued to join them and others disappeared briefly behind the trees.
Every time I reached a new biggest ever number and then did a recount, there were always yet more. Forty, then 50, surely not 60? Yes, there were over 60 in the party at the next count.
And finally, with the light fading and the Red Kites dropping down at last into their chosen wood for warmth and protection, I counted at least 70 separate birds, possibly a county record.
Other ‘shapes’ joined them although I could not be certain they were Red Kites in the now gathering gloom. But from a repeat visit, I confirmed these were birds who would rest in various trees in the vicinity and only move in once the aerial display team had decided to settle.
There could easily have been as many as 100 birds. I have no idea how far some had come from to join the party – but what a sure good way to meet a potential mate!
And what an amazing performance to witness. I was a bit stunned. And felt high as a Kite.
