9:25am Thursday 6th September 2007
IN a world where everything seems to be driven by profit, it is always gratifying to find a jewel in the rough.
And The Hawk Conservancy near Andover must count as one such gem. I am ashamed to say that although I have lived in Hampshire for over 25 years and have often seen and wondered about the brown signs on the A303 near Andover for the Trust, I have never quite managed to get there.
Eventually, my visit came about after my long suffering wife presented me with an afternoon Hawk Experience as a gift.There's a bit of the falconer in everyone.
It harks back to times when these amazing birds were a symbol of power and authority and indeed, even today in some Middle Eastern countries, certain raptors are reserved for royalty only.
The Hawk Conservancy is a much more egalitarian affair. Now a registered charity, it started as an early piece of agricultural diversity when, in 1966, Reg Smith, already featuring in animal slots on TV favourites such as How?, Blue Peter and Animal Magic (under the guiding hand of the inestimable Johnny Morris), set up a zoo at Weyhill to augment a somewhat meagre income from his smallholding.
Today, the Trust houses 200 birds from around the world.
From the moment we arrived you could see that this was a place people genuinely wanted to work .
Reg died 12 years ago, but his mantle has been taken up by his son, Ashley and it's his enthusiasm that pervades all, from the student with the delicious smile serving in the coffee shop - even my wife remarked unusually that I was right to observe how delightful she was - to the bird wranglers who schooled for us in the care and handling of awesome creatures, ranging from African Milky Owls, to Harris Hawks to Gandalf the African Tawny Eagle with a five-foot wingspan.
But it was the flying display that really took our breath away. Ashley Smith had just the right combination of folksy humour and stage management in compering what is, after all, the avian equivalent of herding cats.
He had us in stitches recalling his father's politically-incorrect way of dealing with recalcitrant children. Not a few were nodding sagely that Reg had the right idea.
But the real stars were the birds. A Peregrine Falcon zoomed over our heads with millimetres to spare.
We could well believe this bird was capable of 120mph in a dive onto some hapless pigeon.
American Bald Eagles released miles away homed in to order (well, almost) to land majestically before our very eyes.
Ashley knew when to shut up and let the birds do the talking when over a dozen Red Kites and Turkey Vultures took to the air and soared and wheeled to music. I noticed more than one tear- streaked cheek. All this took place in Reg's wildflower meadow - a fitting tribute from a son to a father.
Go and see - and be amazed.
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