New arrivals.

After the rain towards the end of April, May has arrived all in a rush. Cow parsley appeared apparently overnight to wave elegantly as I walked across the grass field.The trees came into leaf as the blossom burst forth and their branches bowed with such weight that the very tips reached down to meet the grass heads stretching upwards. Despite this being my eighth spring with the owls, this greenery felt a little oppressive. Perhaps it was the suddenness with which this abundance appeared but I suspect that the mood of my evening jaunt was made just a little eerie by the silence that now accompanies me. The lockdown means there are no cars. The only sound is the scream of a fox, the bark of a deer across the fields or the chiding of the little owl. This week, however, I am excited to report a different noise.

The barn owls are thankfully returning. To begin with I noticed just the slightest of an increase; an owl's flight against the sunset as I walked into the yard or the slightest movement in the periphery of my vision close to the house. It felt more like a whisper but a definite return to what I had become accustomed to. I watched two together on the shed and I was unsure whether their interactions were friendly or not, yet they seem to be tolerating each other. I observed another enter the shed although it didn't leave again whilst I watched which was reassuring. My biggest surprise was watching an owl alight on the feeding platform by the shed and then exit the farm and fly north. I thought fondly about the bird that visits every summer from this direction and hope it continues to call.

Surprisingly however, the highlight of my week came in the form of a creature that I know frequents the farm, yet one I rarely see. I was leaving the food mid week and panning the torch around low across the grass when I picked out two amber eyes. I held them with the torchlight and walked rapidly towards them. Twice they moved before returning their gaze upon me. The movement was rapid, too quick for a cat and although I was intrigued to find out exactly what I was watching I was also apprehensive. I was now way out across the grass field lured into the darkness by this unseen creature. Just as selkies lure sailors into danger I sensed this creature was tempting me out into the swaying sea of grass but still I continued. I got within a few yards of it and was enchanted to see a fox, its eyes fixed intently upon me, its little ears pricked, every sense alert. I dropped the torch and let it go. Despite being captivated I was a little uneasy. Had it been waiting for the food? I was unsure how foxes and owls would mix and I knew owlets would be vulnerable. I needn't have worried. I haven't seen it since and guess that it was simply as curious about me as I was about it.

But I have been saving the best until last. An increase in owls can only mean one thing; owlets. Three adults regularly meet me which I imagine means one female is still sitting and the pair that wait together in the walnut tree must have owlets to feed. I listen as best I can for that faint yet insistent hissing that tells me owlets are present. It is so faint initially, barely an utterance but I know that at around ten days they will begin with this heart warming sound. Those who know me will be aware that my hearing is atrocious. Not only can I simply not hear sounds in the lower range but the sounds I do hear often seem to be coming from elsewhere. Last night Sam indulged me and walked down with me. We stood together outside the shed but he shook his head. It was a different matter under east nest box. He pointed each time he heard the hissing and once it was pointed out to me I could hear it too. This made sense as this box was the first to have owlets in it last year and barn owl pairs tend to be faithful to nest sites. We must have looked ridiculous standing there pointing and laughing quietly to ourselves in the moonlight. I headed home smiling, pleased to think we would have owlets to watch out for once more.

So there it is, a little bit of good news in a world of uncertainty. It feels reassuring to know that in these unprecedented times nature is a constant.