There is something magical about the hours leading up to dusk. As the sun's rays gradually fade, a new mood settles over the woodland. It is during this time that the nocturnal inhabitants awaken, transforming the forest into a symphony of hoots, rustles, and whispers. Among these nocturnal maestros, the tawny owl holds a special place.
To witness a tawny owl hunting at dusk is a privilege bestowed upon a fortunate few. It is a humbling reminder of the life that exists within the woods. Encounters such as these always deepen my appreciation for the wonders of the natural world.
For the past two weeks this wonderful bird has revealed itself to us most evenings at around 9:15pm. Its never more than ten minutes as the curtain of darkness slowly falls leaving you to only imagine how the rest of the show unfolds.
At just a little after 9pm, the new evening ritual begins; seats turned round, off go the lights and TV as we turn out attention to the woodland outside our window ready for the next episode of Ernest The Owl!
"Will he appear again tonight?" is always my first thought. Sitting there ready with our binoculars, Louise and I scan his three favoured perches; the two dead branches on the oak tree and then the unlikely 45 degree small branch on a chestnut tree. Strange thing is....we never see him land.....he just appears and the heart skips a little beat. Will we get the full ten minute show or will he simply glide off and perform elsewhere?
Tawny Owls have huge eyes to allow them use as much of the available light as possible; we know he can see us behind the windows but he seems not to care. His ears will detect the faintest sound as we watch his head rotate 180 degrees to locate his prey from wherever he is perched. Leaning forward he then glides to the ground and grabs a wood mouse or vole in his talons; more often though he comes up empty-handed. Owls do not produce the protective oils for their feathers like most other birds. This waterproofing feature is sidelined to help keep the flapping of wings completely silent. (Its the reason you will never see an owl fly when its raining). From there he may then perch on top of the green house, a garden chair or over to one of his preferred branches.
The light is now fading fast and it becomes harder and harder to pick him out...... eventually darkness falls and we have to wait another day to see whether he will return. Somehow, Netflix just doesn't cut the mustard after that!