The Return of the Red Kite

Two hundred years ago, the red kite was one of the most familiar birds in Britain. With its forked chestnut tail and a wingspan of up to one and a half metres, it drifted above market towns and city streets, where it scavenged scraps of meat and rubbish thrown from houses. Medieval visitors to London described flocks of kites gathering near butchers' stalls, and the birds were tolerated, even welcomed, because they helped to keep the streets clean. Few people at the time could have imagined that the species would come close to vanishing from the country altogether.

The decline began when attitudes changed. As towns introduced proper drains and refuse collection, the birds lost an easy source of food, but the more serious threat came from the countryside. Landowners who reared game birds for shooting came to regard all birds of prey as competitors, and gamekeepers were paid a small sum for every kite they killed. Egg collecting, a popular hobby among wealthy Victorians, added to the pressure, since a clutch of kite eggs could fetch a high price. By the early twentieth century, only a handful of breeding pairs survived, hidden in the remote valleys of mid-Wales.

For several decades, the Welsh birds were guarded by a small group of volunteers, many of them local farmers, who kept watch over nests during the breeding season. Their efforts prevented extinction, but the population grew painfully slowly. Researchers later discovered that the Welsh kites were all descended from a very small number of ancestors, and that the poor upland habitat offered too little food for chicks to thrive. It became clear that protection alone would not be enough to bring the species back to the rest of Britain.

In the late 1980s, conservationists decided to try reintroduction. Young kites were collected under licence from healthy populations in Spain and Sweden, where the birds were still common, and brought to release sites in southern England and northern Scotland. The chicks were kept in large aviaries for several weeks, fed by staff who stayed out of sight so that the birds would not become used to people, and then released when they were strong enough to fly. Each bird was fitted with coloured wing tags, allowing members of the public to report sightings and helping scientists to track where the young kites settled.

The results surpassed even the most optimistic forecasts. Kites breed slowly, usually raising only one or two chicks a year, so the project leaders, among them the ecologist Marian Holloway, had expected progress to take generations. Instead, the released birds found plenty of food in farmland, where they feed mainly on dead rabbits, pigeons and road casualties, and they began nesting within two years. Today there are thought to be several thousand pairs across the country, and in some areas a dozen kites circling above a motorway is an unremarkable sight.

The birds have also brought unexpected economic benefits. In several rural areas, feeding stations run by landowners allow visitors to watch dozens of kites gathering at a set time each afternoon, and cafés, guest houses and photography businesses have grown up around them. One farm in central Wales, which began putting out food for the birds in the 1990s to help them through hard winters, now receives tens of thousands of visitors a year. Local businesses estimate that kite tourism brings in more money than some traditional forms of farming in the area.

Not everyone has welcomed the success. Some householders have started putting out meat for kites in their gardens, a habit that experts discourage because it can leave birds dependent on people and may attract rats. A few residents complain that kites snatch sandwiches from picnickers, although wildlife officers insist such reports are greatly exaggerated, as the birds are wary and rarely come close to humans. Meanwhile, illegal poisoning remains a problem in a small number of upland areas, where investigators still find dead birds every year.

For many conservationists, the kite has become a symbol of what can be achieved through long-term commitment. According to Holloway, the project worked because it combined careful science with public enthusiasm; ordinary people who reported tagged birds felt they had a share in the outcome. She warns, however, that the same methods may not suit every species. Birds that need large undisturbed territories, or that depend on a single type of prey, may find modern Britain far less accommodating than the adaptable kite.