Barn owls are the sort of bird that can capture anyone’s attention, whether you claim to be a bird watcher or can’t tell a robin from a raven.
Robin (in this case, a human being) is one of our regular visitors, and he dragged his son out for a walk at Fen Drayton Lakes this week. Robin didn’t tell me what his son likes doing, other than bird watching wasn’t one of his interests. However, their walk was interrupted by the sight of a barn owl, then two more, and eventually a fourth sighting. The son was mesmerised, and barn owls have another fan.
Hunting during the day, at this time of year, is a good indication that the barn owls have growing chicks in their nests, and they’re probably well grown and demanding lots of food.
We’ve had a couple of evening guided walks in the past week at Fen Drayton Lakes which have had guest leaders. I went along too, but it was nice to step back and let someone else do the talking.
The first was with medical herbalist Julie Dore, who told us about some of the current and mediaeval uses of some of the plants we found on our route. We were following a brook, with tall grasses and herbs on the banks, when a barn owl was spotted ahead of us. The owl seemed unaware of us as it flew away, searching the banks for small mammals. Julie, on the other hand, was delighted with the owl, and made sure everyone was watching the owl. The plantains weren’t going to disappear as quickly.
The second evening walk was in a different area. We’d just set off after nice views of a yellowhammer, when one of the group spotted a barn owl, flying alongside a hedge across a field on our left.
When the owl reached the field corner, it changed direction, and came across the path we had just followed, and then it turned again and flew past us, perhaps 30 metres away. Flying slowly, searching the rough grass below it for small mammals, I’m sure it had seen our group, but it ignored us. As it flew away, everyone was saying what a great sighting we’d just had, when Steve pointed to a second owl, following the route of the first one, and again passing us at close range. We really didn’t need binoculars.
The best bit of birdwatching was still to come.
About ten minutes later, we’d reached the edge of a field of long grass. The scene was just perfect – the sun was setting, backlighting the flower-heads in a hazy orange glow. The two barn owls were quartering the field, skimming the grass as they headed towards the setting sun.
We thought we were looking at the owls through swarms of flies, until we realised the spots were actually rain drops, and they were heading our way. It was only a shower, and after it passed, we watched a rainbow develop in the distance, eventually touching down on Over Church.
The sun returned, and so did the owls. A final spot of magic to end our evening.
Barn owl photo by Nigel Sprowell