Just when you think it is safe to go back on the internet, along comes an e-mail from Lou. I quote “This is a nuisance e-mail I’m afraid. I was wondering if you would be able to do another article for the online magazine, it would be for August so a year since your last one".  Since she said this article did not need to be as polished as our previous effort, I feel we have succeeded beyond her wildest hopes.

All we had planned to do was to sit in the garden and watch the Red Kites flying overhead. We have at least two flying over the valley most days; we’ve not spotted any transmitters, so we think these are free range; but as the transmitters are about the size of a 10p piece, and we don’t have bionic vision it is not certain. As we live only a few miles, and a couple of valleys away from the Hawk Conservancy, they could have been attracted in by Haydown and his friends.

Thelma with Chairman of Trustees Marion Paviour (right) drawing the winning ticket for the 100 Club's 10th anniversary draw

As far as the Hawk Conservancy Trust is concerned, since the Fly By Night evenings last summer little had happened to us that comes into the category of unusual or worth writing about, until Easter. Up until then we had helped the office to stuff Hawk Talk into envelopes, raked up leaves, sent out monthly 100 Club Winners’ cheques, and posted the list of winners’ numbers and latest financial position on the notice board. Madeleine continued to work in the Coffee shop until the Conservancy closed in the autumn, and returned in the spring, when it reopened. Oh yes, we also wrote out a cheque from the 100 Club for £7,000 to pay for the improved disabled parking, and to complete the tarmac pathway at the top end of the park. However this is not much to write about for an article to entertain the millions of Accipiter readers.

One small anecdote concerning the 100 Club is probably worth telling. About a year ago a lady living in Newbury won first prize. We sent off a cheque, but a few days later it was returned, marked “no longer at this address”. The Hawk Conservancy office could not help, as the lady had cancelled her membership to the Trust, but continued to pay her 100 Club subscription. The Bank was unable to help us contact her, Data Protection Act being cited. We asked for help at the Members’ Night.  Finally we put a letter in the Newbury local paper. Within 24-hours we had a phone call from the lady, and a new cheque was issued and despatched.

Then the e-mail from Lou arrived, and then the phone started to ring. Firstly it was Tracey – would we like to put 2000 copies of Hawk Talk into envelopes? Then there was the call about the BBC.

Stuffing Hawk Talk envelopes with volunteers Audrey and Sylvia

Hawk Talk stuffing went very well. We were helped by two volunteers, Fiona & Christine; Sam, a work experience student suffering from a cold; and Lucy. Lucy was 15 weeks old at the time, (her mum was one of the volunteers), and an absolute charmer. She watched with great interest everything that was going on, and chatted away to us. By about 2008, we should be able to get some real work out of her!

Then it was the BBC’s turn. One Wednesday night the BBC’s local news programme, South Today was going to transmit, in part, live from the Hawk Conservancy Trust. For those who don’t live in the area, South Today goes out each evening from 6:30 until 7:00. The Hawk Conservancy Trust office phoned local members to ask if they would be available to appear as interested spectators in the crowd scenes. Well, we said yes, so our instructions were to be at the park between 5:30 and 6:00 p.m. on the Wednesday evening. It was a beautiful day. The sun shone, the birds sang - well at least the song-birds in our village did, and I assume Tolkien & Duffy joined in. At 5:30 Thelma & I were at Andover bus station and, right on cue, Madeleine’s bus from Basingstoke arrived, for once on time. A short drive and we pulled into the HCT car park.

There were only a few cars and no sign of big trucks with satellite dishes and loads of radio aerials. We walked in; a few people were standing around by the notice board, so we joined them. It was now about 5:50, Roger Johnson the BBC’s presenter, and his camera man who had been sitting by the coffee shop came over. Totally professional, he told us what was planned to happen and when. Then Ashley joined us with the news that, although it was dry where we were, up at the flying grounds it had started to rain and they could hear thunder. Global warming has much to answer for. A big truck with a satellite dish and loads of radio aerials was parked beyond the study centre, and the people working in it did not want to be around in a thunderstorm as there was a twenty foot (several metres) metal pole sticking out of the top when they were transmitting.

Plan B - Roger Johnson explained that in the world of TV, there is “Live TV” and “As Live TV”. We would go for Live TV, but in case the thunder moved closer we would do an earlier recording which would be sent to the BBC’s Southampton office, then if we were unable to transmit live they could use that. Everyone went up to the lower flying ground, all twenty of us. It was now 6:00. There was a flurry of falconers (is flurry a good collective noun for falconers? I feel a competition coming on), and Tolkien was placed on Roger Johnson’s gloved hand. He, Roger, not Tolkien, did his opening speech. Tolkien said his lines a few times, and then flew off to collect a piece of chicken.

Then they started filming the main interview, a chat with Ashley and a Harris Hawk called Kerry. Meanwhile James and Cedric had persuaded Kipling and Mrs Simpson (Griffon Vulture and Condor for those who have not been to the park recently) out to the mound. The Harris Hawk flew off, and Ashley & Roger knelt down. Shortly afterwards two very big birds were in the air heading towards us. Kipling landed near Ashley and got his food; Mrs Simpson flew on over us, turned at the study centre, came back and landed roughly where she should have. My, she’s a big bird when she flies low over your head. There were some white faced falconers about as well. Roger carried on, and interviewed Andy Hinton, who was holding Chestnut, before Tolkien (noisily), flew back to Roger’s glove. It was in the can..

Roger announced we were 22 seconds over the planned time and immediately chatted to Andy to see if they could save a few seconds on the live broadcast. It was now 6:20. The thunder was still rumbling in the distance, but the rain held off. At about 6:29 they announced we would go again, and transmit live. So we did. Roger made his introduction, which took about one minute, and then they went back to the Southampton studio. At that point Madeleine received a text from a friend saying “Oh, you are on TV”. At least someone was watching. Yes, I know we should have switched the mobile off, but no one reminded us!

The live transmission went almost exactly the same as the recording, with three exceptions; Andy cut his interview down by about 25 seconds, Sally Taylor in the BBC studio ad-libbed at the handover and added about 60 seconds on. Finally Mrs Simpson absolutely refused to fly. Never work with children and large Condors.

After filming, Monica took us to see an orange cowslip in Reg’s Meadow.

Then we drove back to Andover, picked up a fish and chip supper, and went home to watch ourselves on TV; yes, the video had worked. There was an absolute downpour with full “son et lumière” when we were about two miles from home, which continued for quite a while, but the BBC and the HCT had got away with it! (See the broadcast here - Webmaster)