Reflection

 The end of the year is a time for reflection in all aspects of our lives and each December I like to look back on the year just gone and consider the successes and triumphs, the tragedies and trials of my feathered friends. 

2023 has certainly been successful at our farm but I think that generally for Barn Owls across the country it will be another poor year. The first half of the year saw cold temperatures well into early summer which made owls reluctant to rear broods. The second half initially saw more suitable conditions and later broods were recorded but the terribly wet autumn and winter here in Lincolnshire has made for trying times for Barn Owls.

However, we had a few firsts here on the farm. Our two pairs reared their first broods of the year on the dutch barn just metres apart in east nest box and west nest box. They haven't done this since 2014, a bumper year for Barn Owls, when voles were abundant. Although we always have two early broods that fledge in June, the young are usually reared further apart. We fledged three or four owlets from each nest box who quickly dispersed. A first for our owls came with our second broods later in the year. The original pair who always produce second broods moved over to the beehive box and reared another three owlets and the second pair moved from west nest box into east nest box to fledge their second brood of three. This pair usually rear their second brood elsewhere so it was a privilege to have them so close for the whole year. The only difference between the two pairs is that the second pair reared their young a coupe of weeks later than our original owls. These fledglings are still with us, giving me some fantastic fly pasts on these cold winter evenings.

I am estimating the number of owlets although, in watching them every night I am fairly confident as to how many youngsters there are. Charles kindly came out to ring our first brood but the Manitou was out of action after that. Later in the year Simon  was approached by Peterborough City Council to oversee the boxes that Paddy had previously monitored and so gathered the data from our owls. Ringing continues to be invaluable in showing where owls move to and how long they live. I am always keen to talk to these experts too. I like to hear what they have found locally and how Barn Owls are faring across the Fens. 

Alongside the successes for the Barn Owls the Little Owls did well too. They reared two broods in June. One pair used the nest box on the dutch barn and a second pair used a tree cavity. I loved walking down at dusk and spotting these dapper little birds with the most indignant of stares. These are a fair weather bird. I rarely see them during the winter but know they are close and will show themselves when the weather becomes warmer. 

For the Kestrels it was a trying time. You may remember how daddy kestrel hurt is wing just as his youngsters were fledging.  I have grown very fond of him and to watch as he struggled to the ground with the food I left and see him look so forlorn was hard. Out of necessity he completely ignored his young family and the female took charge. They still reared three youngsters who commanded the skies above the farm during early summer. I am so relieved that daddy kestrel regained the use of his wing. He would have perished without my supplies of food during those early days and each morning he says thank you with a wonderful fly past as I walk Max and leave breakfast for these resilient little falcons.

The Short Eared Owls graced us with their presence if only for a short time during both spring and autumn. I was pleased to get some half decent photos as they flew beside me on my evening walk. The Barn Owls have also been very benevolent this year in allowing me some fabulous opportunities to take photos. I know how fortunate I am to have such close encounters throughout the year.

2023 was also the year that I thought the farm would finally be sold. I feel certain that in 2024 it will sadly change hands and leave our family after three generations. As I will still live close, I hope to continue feeding the owls but this will not be a certainty. My little project may be in jeopardy but I remain upbeat. As I walk down each evening and watch the owls fly buoyantly to meet me I stay focused on past successes. The future must take care of itself. 

Perils

When any bird fledges, there are numerous challenges for them to negotiate but for barn owls, particularly these fledgling so late in the year, the perils seem almost insurmountable. I watch over these youngsters with angst and trepidation, anticipating threats and worrying a ridiculous amount over their welfare. But I have invested time and taken pleasure in their journey this far and I am a soft-hearted individual at the best of times. If I wasn't I would have given up this jaunt many moons ago.

 

Although I help and we wouldn't have successful broods this late in the year without some support, I am sometimes a hindrance. This was plainly evident when the owlets first fledged and I disturbed one of them from the straw early one morning. It flew, clueless, from the farm and plonked itself in a small ditch where it waited, exposed and vulnerable. I took a detour to work to drive along past the farm and look out for it, but this only added to my concerns. There were at least three buzzards hunting the roadside, buzzards that could easily take out a young, naive barn owl. I could only hope that it headed back to the farm and the safety of the straw promptly and that no harm came to it and I resolved that for now, my morning walk needed to take a route away from the straw stack.

The next hazard was some testing autumn winds in the form of Storm Babet, Ciaran and Debi. These literally hit the farm in quick succession when the owlets were still honing their flying skills. I walked down to find gale force winds tunnelling through the farm gate and owlets grounded all across the grass field. They couldn't fly even if they tried and I just hoped they had the sense to hop back to the straw and find shelter. The food I provided meant that they didn't have to hunt in the worst of the weather and could practice their skills in more suitable conditions. I knew that if  they got wet they would be vulnerable to predators. Max had shown me that we had foxes close. He has a special drill for foxes which involves nose down, tail up and some very deep barks. Because of his behaviour, I realised that while the owlets were at their most naive, foxes were prowling. Thankfully I never found any trace that any had been predated but this added to my concerns.

Over time the owlets became more streetwise, they stayed in the straw as they saw me approach both in the mornings and at feeding time. They still hissed incessantly for food and the fly pasts were incredible but I was reassured that they had found safe and cosy nooks in the straw stack itself. Yet on a farm there are always changes so you can imagine my consternation when one morning a lorry approached and the fork lift began to load straw onto it. The straw's true purpose isn't to house my barn owls but to provide bedding for animals and it is transported right across the country. I watched a distance away, looking for owlets flying out and worrying that some of them may even be loaded up onto the lorry between bales if they sat tight. But the forklift just took single bales from the outer edges and it seemed that the owlets were safe once more.

                                             (Notice the owl nook between the bales here)

On my evening walk we saw owls in the torchlight as they began to hunt beyond the periphery of the farm itself. The new peril for them now was traffic. They would need to learn to negotiate the roads close by and although they weren't too busy I was dismayed to find out that the main trunk road closest to us as closed at night for a week. All main route traffic would be diverted within half a kilometre of the farm. I stood on the bridge and watched a stream of lights constantly negotiating our small fenland road. The owlets simply wouldn't stand a chance against so many vehicles. To try to help I fed early and generously in a bid to keep them close. I dreaded a journey out each morning fearing that I would find one of the youngsters crumpled on the roadside verge but it seems that this was a peril they have avoided, at least for now.

I know they won't all make this first winter with so much against them but each evening gives me hope for them and their precarious futures. Each morning I see them hunting from perches or along simple familiar routes and last night two flew to greet me and my torch found four little rotund faces peering at me from the uppermost bales. They will be with me now until January when I will worry again for them as these beautiful babies leave the farmyard for the final time. 

Fledglings everywhere.

 Just a few days back I knew the owlets fledging was imminent as they popped back and forth from the nest box at feeding time. They danced and weaved, stamped their feet and scuffled. These were fully fledged owls ready to join their parents gliding across the farm yard. The adult bird's behaviour told me that their youngsters would soon be out too. Instead of my usual fly past they were screeching at me and far more hostile. I have seen this each year when the youngsters are on the cusp of leaving the nest box. The owls have worked hard to rear their broods and are anxious and understandably protective. I recognised their anxiety and swiftly left the farm.

The realisation that they are actually out of the nest box happens during a daylight sighting when a slight movement in the straw stack alerts me to a youngster that has got out of the nest box and roosted in between the bales. It is not at all happy to be seen and has no idea how to hide away and so sits stock still pretending it just isn't there. This one is female. A far more confident male leaps about in the roof space scaling the bales with ease, apparently unaware that I can see it. I continue on my dog walk and take a different route back to give it space and not cause any distress. This scenario happens for a few days until the youngsters learn to tuck themselves away and stay hidden until after dark.

Now that I know they are out, I walk down at dusk and sit quietly to see where the youngsters are appearing from and perhaps to find out how many there are. The full moon is looming over the hedgerow to the east, illuminating the sodden ground. Standing by the huge straw stack in the field I have views of both nest boxes and I am not the only one watching. The little owls have appeared and one is perched on the shed door staring indignantly across the yard. It is not impressed with these brave, new interlopers and watches from the shadows. Barn owls appear as if by magic. Often I don't see where they come from but suddenly they are there, floating across the yard or moving in the straw. There appears to be little activity over by the beehive box but I know there are owls out in the trees because the blackbirds are constantly calling in alarm, a sure sign that an owl is close. I take my cue from the little owl and I too move into the shadows of the grain store but I am instantly rumbled. A barn owl appears on the shed right next to me and stares incredulously at me as if it cannot believe that I have the audacity to be there, and with no food either! It gives one almighty shriek and I admit defeat and head home.

At feeding time I am greeted far more enthusiastically. I can hear the owls hissing as I reach the gate. Some of the owlets clamour to get back inside the nest box because, I suppose, they still associate this with food. Other fly rather shakily around the straw while more perch in the nearby trees. Occasionally there is a half-formed screech as one of the youngsters can't make up its mind whether I am friend or foe. The shed has, by now, also become a favoured roost. One night an owl leaves the back of the shed as I approach whilst last night, one popped its head out of the gap above the door once I started to throw the food onto the roof. They are beyond comical to watch and I walk down with a smile on my face each evening in anticipation of what these beautiful babies will get up to next.

Of course there is a worrying aspect to their fledging so late in the season. I am guessing there are three or four owlets from both broods now roosting in the yard. That's potentially ten owls plus the little owls and the kestrels. The weather has been unseasonably wet and whilst I will continue to feed the owls, it is difficult for them to gain their independence and begin to hunt for themselves in such wet weather. I am hoping for a settled spell so that these resilient little hunters can fend for themselves. In the meantime I have some spectacularly entertaining evenings ahead of me.