
Romsey Abbey celebrates first-ever peregrine falcon chicks
Peregrine falcon eggs have hatched at an abbey for the first time, experts have said.Four chicks, three male and one female, appeared in a gulley at Romsey Abbey in Hampshire about 20 days ago.The site's first known peregrine nest was in 2024, when the same parents produced two eggs that did not hatch, Hampshire Ornithological Society said.The number of recorded nests in Hampshire has declined this year, from a recent average of about 20, to no more than 14, the group added.
The chicks could start to fly in four-to-six weeks' time, the abbey said.Mr Betton said the parents chose lay this year's eggs in an old nest box in the gulley, ignoring a new tray on the roof where a webcam had been installed.Last year, one of the eggs was washed away by rain, but the ornithologist said this year's chicks would probably not be harmed by any downpours.
Peregrine falcon numbers fell to about 350 pairs in the 1960s, following wartime extermination effects and pesticide use, Mr Betton said.The growing UK population, which now amounts to more than 2,000 pairs, has led to competition for nesting sites, he said."Young female peregrines, born in the last two years, are turning up at nests, attacking the existing female," he explained."If they kill her, they take over the nest and the male."Mr Betton said disease could be one reason for the decline in the number of local nests."Bird flu, which has been around for about five years, has affected sea birds in particular," he said."If a peregrine were to eat an infected gull, it would likely catch the disease."Two peregrines - one with confirmed bird flu - recently died after nesting at Christchurch Priory in Dorset.
You can follow BBC Hampshire & Isle of Wight on Facebook, X (Twitter), or Instagram.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


The Sun
24 minutes ago
- The Sun
Brits recognise extract from the Lord's Prayer over famous line from Star Wars, reveals poll
AN extract from the Lord's Prayer is more recognisable than a famous line in Star Wars, according to a poll. More people also identified Jesus Christ 's ancient teaching than the national anthem. 3 Some 80.3 per cent knew ' Give us this day our daily bread ' is from the Lord's Prayer, also known as the 'Our Father'. It beat the 79.9 per cent recognising ' May the Force be with you ' from the Star Wars films. 'To be or not to be' from Shakespeare play Hamlet was identified by 73 per cent. Some 63 per cent matched 'happy and glorious, long to reign over us' with God Save The King in the Church of England's poll of 2,000-plus people. The Archbishop of York, Stephen Cottrell, said the findings suggest the prayer remains a "steady guide" and something which continues to "resonate with people of all faiths and none". Mr Cottrell is leading a "tour" of events at churches and cathedrals across the north of England as part of his Faith In The North initiative, with a focus on the prayer. He said: "These results reflect what we've been hearing across the north of England through our Faith In The North initiative, which invites people to explore the Lord's Prayer. "Lines like 'Give us this day our daily bread' speak powerfully to today's challenges, reminding us to seek sufficiency, not excess, and to consider what 'enough' truly means." Scottish Star Wars superfan's dream comes true after coming to rescue of show 3 WHAT ARE THE WORDS OF THE LORD'S PRAYER The contemporary Lord's Prayer reads as follows: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and for ever. Amen.


The Sun
an hour ago
- The Sun
Parents of 17-year-old launch High Court battle to stop teen changing gender
THE parents of a 17-year-old have launched a High Court bid to block their child from changing gender. They took the highly unusual move after the child forged their mother's signature to get hormone replacement therapy on the NHS. The teen was born a boy but identifies as a girl and is being backed in court by their GP. The parents insist the child lacks the mental capacity to consent to the treatment. In court papers they say no proper assessment of the teen's mental and physical health has been done. They also fear grave psychiatric harm if the child is allowed to continue with 'an inappropriate, negligently given, life-altering treatment'. The case is believed to be the first of its kind. The parents are separately seeking a judicial review of the GP's role in prescribing HRT. The Royal College of GPs previously stated medics should not prescribe gender-affirming hormones to patients under the age of 18. The child, who lives with their parents, started HRT last October, ahead of a referral to specialist gender services. London's High Court was told treatment began four weeks after the child forged their mum's signature on a self-assessment form. Keir says 'woman is an adult female' & insists he's 'pleased' by court trans ruling after years of woke dithering Mr Justice MacDonald said the child 'emphasises the law gives her permission to make her own decision'. The court heard the child, described as 'eloquent, articulate, and sensible' instructed a solicitor and is happy and doing A-levels. The child told the court: 'I live in two opposite worlds — one in my household, where I am seen as less than, and the other outside the home where I am calm and grounded.' Case adjourned until a later date. 1


The Sun
2 hours ago
- The Sun
My name's Ulrika Jonsson & I'm an alcoholic – I was on knees swigging a bottle at 11am then one day I made cry for help
MY name is Ulrika and I am an alcoholic. Not a drop of alcohol has passed my lips in just over a year. 7 7 For family and friends, it's been a cause for great celebration, it's viewed as a major feat. My eldest daughter even offered to take me out for a celebratory meal. For me, the run-up to this anniversary has been the cause of much trepidation and a sprinkling of fear. But, most of all, it's been a realisation. Because this is my life now. The day I surrendered and accepted I had a problem with alcohol, I knew I couldn't just give it up for a while. I knew I couldn't just cut back in the hope that I'd be cured, because alcoholism is a disease for which there is no cure. There is a solution, but there is no fix. I was trapped in a vicious cycle of hell. Even with my best friend calling me one Saturday morning to tell me to get help because I clearly had a problem, I refused despite the unbearable shame I felt. Alcoholics are selfish creatures. Yes, having a problem with alcohol meant I was an alcoholic. Even though I would NEVER have admitted it at the time. Then came June 5 last year. A hangover day much like any other, really. I sat on the sofa with my liver and brain pickled in equal measure, wrapped up in the blanket of shame, and something made me reach out for help. Ulrika Jonsson speaks out during Sober October about overcoming binge drinking I typed a message that read, quite simply: 'I can't do this any more' and sent it to a friend who was five years' sober. And that's how a life of sobriety saved my life and my sanity. There is every possibility I could have given up drinking by myself — my obstinance can be a virtue — but I wouldn't have been able to heal myself and reach the level of emotional sobriety I have today without the support of other ex-drunks and a programme to guide me. Saved my life It has saved my life in more ways than one. And, without sounding too evangelical about my journey, I've had a spiritual awakening and found an inner peace I never knew possible. I'm a different person to the Ulrika I was over a year ago. I've learnt more about myself in the past year than I did in my past 56 on this planet. Has it been easy? Nothing easily gained is ever worth having, I say. I've not had the temptation to pick up a drink, but alcohol is impossible to avoid — it's everywhere. What to do if you think are an alcoholic IF you're struggling with alcohol addiction, the most important thing is to recognise the problem and seek support - You don't have to face it alone. Seek Professional Help GP or Doctor – A medical professional can assess your situation and provide advice on treatment options. Therapists or Counsellors – Talking to an addiction specialist can help address underlying causes and develop coping strategies. Rehab or Detox Programmes – If physical dependence is severe, medically supervised detox may be necessary. Consider Support Groups At the beginning, I would look lovingly at a glass of red wine when I went out for a Sunday roast. But knowing that a drink would not make things better, and it would never just be the ONE, stopped me from picking it up. I found Christmas difficult initially and, disconcertingly, Easter was even harder, with family around me drunk and laughing at things that just weren't funny. I had a couple of dates earlier this year, when I knew the social lubricant of alcohol would have calmed my nerves and allowed me to hide beneath a veil of intoxication. But at least I was able to be my authentic self — to be more discerning and accept that these men were just not for me. Sobriety comes with a hefty dose of honesty, which can be as welcome as it can be unwelcome. So, this journey goes on. It's not a destination. It will only end with my dying breath. I've yet to learn the exact damage my drinking might have inflicted on those around me. 7 7 I think of my children and how worried about me they were. How I must have scared them. How torn they must have been between wanting to say something and just hoping I would come to my senses. I have amends to make. I have character defects to accept and improve. I have to remember to live in the moment and that whether I'm one year or ten years' sober, for me it will continue to be one day at a time. I still have alcohol in the house. Removing it would make no difference to me. I believe if I really wanted a drink, I would go to buy it. I have no objections at all to others drinking around me but, by Christ, people can be annoying when drunk! At least it's not me doing the crazy stuff, dancing on the tables or doing things I will quickly forget or regret. Nor do I wake up with punishing hangovers and terrifying anxiety or even a new haircut because the rum thought it was a great idea to give myself a new look the night before. Beautiful things happen in sobriety. Good things come your way. Beautiful people come into your life, too. People without judgment who fundamentally care for you and understand you. That has been my greatest reward. Don't get me wrong, life has continued to throw me curveballs. I'm just better equipped to deal with them as a sober person. Sobriety comes with a hefty dose of honesty, which can be as welcome as it can be unwelcome I have a history of alcoholics in my family on my mother's side, but I don't have decades of alcohol abuse behind me. I didn't become addicted after the first sip of Pimm's at the age of 14 when I first got drunk. My drinking history is quite unremarkable. It didn't result in me losing my job, my marriage, my children or even my driving licence. I didn't get arrested or end up in jail. I wasn't a vomiting mess that couldn't get her kids ready for school in the morning. I wasn't a violent drunk. Which is why it might be helpful for anyone else out there to note that alcoholics come in all shapes and sizes and many live among us in plain sight. But the few years running up to my decision to quit, I was clearly drinking for the wrong reasons and I had no control over my cravings. I was a binge-drinker who drank to black out. Heavy shame A perfect storm of life led me to self-medicate, to soothe away life's ills and sharp edges; to quell my crippling anxiety by drinking neat rum from the neck of the bottle while kneeling into the cupboard underneath the stairs. There is nothing quite as 'sobering' as admitting to dropping to your knees at 11am and sticking your lips around a bottle of 40 per cent alcohol; feeling it swiftly burn your throat and immediately extinguish your anxiety, fears and self-loathing. Drinking was 'my thing'. It was a personal and private activity I had all to myself. I foolishly believed it was harmless because it didn't affect anyone else, so it was nothing anyone could take away from me. And I loved it. It made me feel instantly better and helped me cope with life. It killed my feelings of being overwhelmed; it relaxed me and made me a much nicer person. I thought . . . See, the one thing I had established by the time my drinking got completely out of hand was that I simply wasn't cut out for life. 7 7 7 I just couldn't cope. Everyone else seemed on top of everything while I was constantly swimming against the tide. I was forever traipsing through fields of molasses; perpetually found myself on the battlefield of life utterly unarmed. I was just no good at it. While I made no specific plan to end my life, my hope was eventually that alcohol would destroy me. I was a solitary drinker. But what might have started out as fun very quickly, and without fail, ended in blackout. I couldn't just have the one drink. What weirdo does that? I wasn't seeking light inebriation. I wanted the full anaesthetic effect. My self-esteem and self-worth were so bad, I believed the drink would make me become someone else. Or better still, nothing at all. I had such crippling anxiety about the present and future, which was coupled with past ordeals, that I was desperate for my feelings just to STOP. Because I didn't initially drink every day, and because my life looked impeccable from the outside, I convinced myself there wasn't a problem. I was still in control. However, I know now that those close to me saw a different picture. They heard my slurred voice on the phone; saw my drunk eyes betray me; worried about my volatile and highly strung demeanour and mood swings. They grew tired of repeating things to me that my blackouts had erased. It took months to rid myself of the heavy shame that drinking brought. Now, I realise I was really ill — both physically and spiritually — and that makes me go a bit easier on myself. In short, I'm grateful to my alcoholism for bringing me to where I am today: a life of honesty and integrity; of clarity and calm and being the person I never believed I could be. My name is Ulrika and I'm an alcoholic. And I have chosen life.