I recently joined a small group of dedicated individuals. Who were assembled in a remote car park. The day was changeable or, as my Scottish friends would say, ‘Mizzle’ – a combination of dull and grey skies with light rain.
After a short while, we were divided into pairs and given an area to cover, and we set off in different directions.
Our purpose for the day was to try and spot an iconic bird I had never seen in the wild, one that would be hard to miss if it were in the area. I was so excited.
We climbed up the long and muddy path to a ridge line on the hill at the southern side of the valley and found a sheltered spot with an overhang above and good cover from the wild shrubs around us.
Ruth and I settled down and made ourselves as comfortable as possible on our small foldable stools, with our cameras and monitoring equipment prioritising our comfort.
We chatted in soft, low voices as we waited to avoid disturbing the terrestrial wildlife around us. I turned and said to Ruth that one day, this valley would be full of the birds we were looking for.
She looked at me, and without a word being spoken, I knew she expected me to back that bold statement up. I paused as I knew that I couldn’t and that my comment was based on hope and a gut instinct, but that was not what I said; I just smiled and said hopefully.
The golden eagle is one of the largest and certainly one of the most impressive birds that call the British Isles home, especially when seen soaring over a Highland glen or searching for prey over a hillside with deep, leisurely wingbeats.
They can often be seen from up to a mile away, and the impression is always of sheer size, power and majesty.
It is sometimes confused at a distance with more frequently seen Raptors, particularly the Buzzard, but the Golden eagle’s long wings, relatively long tail and prominent head are enough to show it is an eagle. Ruth told me, “Once you have seen an eagle, there is never any doubt again.
The golden eagle usually builds its nest, or eyrie, high up on a rocky crag that can be 600 metres or around 2,000ft above sea level, although some eagles will nest in tall trees.
A pair may have two or three nests within a territory, and they will use them in rotation. Their nests are big and bulky, made of piles of sticks, bracken and heather, and then lined with grasses.
The female lays two white, blotchy eggs in mid-March. She will lay one initially, begin incubating the egg, and then lay the second egg three or four days later.
Both eggs usually hatch, but the youngest chick, born a few days after the first, is often disadvantaged. Other birds of prey use this strategy.
The younger and smaller chick may not survive as it cannot compete with its larger sibling for food and can be pushed from the nest by the older chick – or sometimes, even eaten by it!
Both chicks are ready to fly in 65 – 70 days if it survives.
Each pair of eagles needs a vast territory of around 3,000 acres, and they soar on thermals as they hunt their prey from the air.
Once an eagle spots prey, it swoops down at speeds of up to 150 km/h, nearly 100 mph, striking and killing its prey with its long, sharp nails.
Eagles have incredible eyesight that allows them to see prey from far above. The prey can be as small as a mouse or a lizard or as big as a fox.
Usually, larger mammals such as deer are carrion. Most prey is killed on the ground, but some birds are caught in flight.
Over the years, the golden eagle has suffered greatly at the hands of humans.
In the nineteenth century, many eagles were killed by farmers and gamekeepers in the belief that the eagles killed large numbers of sheep and grouse.
You can’t say with certainty that eagles wouldn’t take a lamb, but they wouldn’t take a ewe who would be present and actively protecting her lamb. What is more accurate is that eagles take lambs that are already dead.
Golden eagles certainly kill grouse, but research tells us that the number of grouse predated by eagles is far below the estimates from gamekeepers, and they do not have any damaging effects on the ‘bags’ at grouse shoots.
Fortunately, many farmers and gamekeepers now recognise the eagle’s potential to control other wild animals, such as rats and rabbits. As a significant predator, the eagle helps to maintain ecological balance within its habitat.
Ecological research shows that predators at the top of the food chain have an enormous effect on the biodiversity and ecology of an area – like ripples in water, the presence of our larger predatory animals sustains an incredible amount of life below its top spot at the food chain. This phenomenon, in ecological terms, is known as a trophic cascade.
Although the golden eagle is a protected species, it is still threatened by various factors.
Golden Eagles are regularly killed when they eat poisoned sheep carcasses put out to kill foxes. This is a severe threat that should be stopped and made illegal, as leaving a poisoned carcass in the wild is wrong
You may think farmers would be the main ones doing this, and they certainly do, but often, it is the landowners or contractors on forestry plantations who take over the open areas of land where the eagle likes to hunt.
Some pairs of eagles fail to breed or successfully rear their young when they are unintentionally disturbed by the high numbers of hikers, walkers, and climbers passing close to their nests; this is a known problem in the Cairngorms and Central Highland areas.
The collection of eggs, or eaglets, is also a severe threat. There are laws, with hefty fines, that have helped to reduce this, but it is almost impossible to keep a constant watch on all the nests, especially as they are naturally in such remote areas.
During the 1960s, golden eagles and many other birds of prey were affected by organopesticides, such as DDT, which entered the food chains in their habitat.
The eagles suffered high mortality rates from their position at the top of the food chain, with the poisons either making them infertile or causing their eggshells to be so thin that they broke when the birds tried to incubate them.
Another chemical, dieldrin, a component of sheep dip to kill ticks and fleas, had the same effect when the eagles fed on dead sheep.
Fortunately, when the danger of these pesticides was realised, they were banned, and since then, the eagle has begun to recover in numbers.
In 2014, there were 440 pairs of Golden Eagles in the UK. Now, ten years on, that number has grown by no more than 10% to around 500 pairs, so progress has been slow, although progress in rewilding is encouraging.
For example, white-tailed eagles have been reintroduced to England, beavers have become the first legally reintroduced native mammal, and wild bison have been released into Kent.
But let’s return to the conversation about the Golden Eagles.
When you think of golden eagles in the UK, most think of Scotland, which is undoubtedly where most eagles are found.
It may surprise many of you to know that the last Golden Eagle to be resident in England was as recently as 2016.
He was in Riggindale in the Lake District, and his death was unanimously assumed to be natural causes.
This male eagle, unnamed, had a sad story for several reasons. Firstly, he descended directly from the reintroduction to the lake district in 1969.
It is now acknowledged that this reintroduction was flawed because the eagle population needed to be bigger to sustain and develop. The pesticide cocktails, including DDT that were legal at the time, undoubtedly affected it.
Tragically, he was the last survivor and spent the last 12 years of his life alone following the death of his mate. Since then, the lonely eagle had diligently built a nest every year and put on magnificent flying displays to attract another female. But despite his impressive displays and sturdy, palatial nests, no female ever came, and he died alone.
That is why I am sitting on the side of a windy and rain-swept Valley in the south of Scotland today, looking for Golden Eagles.
After many hours, our patience was richly awarded. Ruth, whom I was working with today, had been surveying eagles in the area for many years, and when she excitedly tugged on my arm and said look, my heartbeat tripled in milliseconds.
It was not much more than a dark dot in the sky and was a long way off in the distance, but through binoculars, it was a Golden Eagle.
What Ruth said next was even more exciting; she said he may be heading our way.
Now, Eagles do not travel in straight lines or from point A to point B in a direct line. No, they have their way of surveying their vast territories, which makes a lot of sense.
They have incredible eyesight, can see small things from a long way off, and have considerable territories to cover.
So, Eagles fly up in a circular motion until they reach the air thermals and currents where they will glide, with their vast wings outstretched and covering many miles with the minimum amount of energy. They look so graceful and beautiful while they are doing it.
I have no concept of time as I watch the Eagle ride the thermals, moving ever closer to our position in the valley. Maybe an hour had passed, but it felt like seconds when Ruth screeched at me, “There’s two!’ I followed the direction of her scope, and right there at the other end of my t binoculars was a second Golden Eagle.
We sat captivated by their majesty and presence. These birds are big; their wingspans can reach 2.4 metres or 8 feet, and we couldn’t see any white patches on their tails, so these were adult birds and maybe, just maybe, a couple.
It was the wrong time of the year for the actual courting behaviour, where both birds will put on a magnificent undulating display as they glide up and down, riding the thermals as they dance their way together across the sky.
Male birds will pick up small pieces of rock and drop them before entering into a steep, high-speed dive and then, incredibly, they will catch it in mid-air, repeating the manoeuvre several times to impress the female, and the good news is – it usually works!
Today, we would not be seeing the complete mating air display, but what we were watching was still spectacular. I had the same primaeval feeling deep within me that I felt the first time I heard a wild male lion roar, and the hairs were standing up on my arms and neck just as they did when I saw a tiger for the first time. It was an unforgettable experience.
When I was younger, some school friends’ parents had a bird of prey rescue centre and swan sanctuary, and I would visit it to help out as often as possible.
One day, Robin told me there was someone I would like you to meet, and he took me to the large runs, and there was a Golden Eagle on its own. It wasn’t a wild bird; it had escaped, and the tags on its legs were enough for Robin to find and contact the owners.
The bird stood tall on its perch and was a stunning combination of shades and tones of brown with a distinct golden shimmer to the feathers on the back of its head and neck.
Its beak was extended with a deep hook off the top, and I could see a yellow line around the mouth that matched a splash of yellow on the top of its beak and central between its eyes. And what stunning eyes it had, dark amber brown with a black pupil that was dilated as the bird rested but still very aware of our presence.
I remember clearly the sheer size of its feet and talons as they lazily gripped the perch and how the feathers covered its legs until they reached the yellow skin of the feet.
Back then, cameras were not the sort of things a young lad carried with him, and phones lived in the hallway at home and were attached to the wall, so I have no pictures of that chance encounter, but the memory it etched into my memory forever.
Back to the present, and now one of the eagles was riding the air currents above us as they rose after hitting the upper edges of the valley.
The eagle circled and swooped, close enough for me to see the feathers on its wing tips; they were like slim, elongated fingers that moved in the wind. I was drawn to the tail’s sheer width and depth as the eagle used it to remain stable and level in the ever-changing thermals.
The large legs were tucked in tightly underneath, and its head moved in a counter direction to its tail as both wings stabilised the flight and allowed the eagle to ascend or descend at will.
I reached for my camera remote, almost hoping the Eagle above me wouldn’t notice and move away. I aligned the camera to the eagle high above me in the sky, extended the zoom lens, and began to capture that magical moment.
We both got some stunning stills and videos of the eagles individually, but neither of us could get a single image with them both in one frame. That gives you an idea of how big the sky is and how far apart the birds are.
Both birds had rings but no tracking devices, and we were thrilled to see that the rings were on the right and left legs of the individual birds, confirming our hopes that this was a pair.
The excitement was real, and I was trembling, not from the cold and dampness but from the exhilaration of sharing time with such a remarkable wild and native bird.
I hope that I have captured some of that excitement today and that you, too, will find the same excitement when you see a wild animal of whatever species for the first time in the wild.
I know I will be back to see these incredible birds as they continue to populate new areas within Scotland, and I nurture the hope that we will one day see them again in England.
That isn’t a fantasy, as the Scottish population is now easily within range of the borders, and a young female was spotted in the Pennines as recently as 2020. Sadly, she didn’t stay and returned to Scotland, but her exploration has sparked new hope for the species to re-establish itself in England.
Another reason is that general attitudes towards wildlife, conservation and rewilding have improved in recent years as people have discovered, rekindled or fuelled their love of nature.
Another factor could be the overall reduction in sheep farming on the upland hills of northern England since the government changed the subsidies and funding that essentially keep the loss-making upland sheep farms in business.
In his book Feral, George Monbiot states, “Sheep farming in this country is a slow-burning ecological disaster, which has done more damage to the living systems of this country than either climate change or industrial pollution.”
This is the ideal opportunity for England to rewild its upland moors, funded by removing subsidies to support the grouse shooting estates and instead create a genuine wild habitat that will help us tackle the imminent challenge of climate change that we have brought upon ourselves.
As an apex predator, the golden eagle plays a vital role at the top of the food chain in remote mountainous and open moorland regions, and maybe the Golden eagle is the ultimate sign of wildness.