Winter wonders

 The Fens are at their best in the winter. I tend to think that these big skies and vast open spaces are best appreciated during the colder months when the greys and browns of reeds and rushes are backlit by the setting sun. We are also lucky enough to have a myriad of winter migrants join us across these flat fields and among them are the Short-eared owls.

I adore watching these birds. They appear as if from nowhere, flapping those huge wings in an almost lazy fashion, and meandering from side to side. Facially they are beautiful with ear tufts that give them their name and the most remarkable yellow eyes that are lined with a smokey darkness and indicate that these owls are diurnal and hunt at dawn and dusk.

We've always had Short-eared owls on the farm. My late brother in law often told me how they disturbed them from the tussocky grass each winter when the dykes and ditches were dredged and cleared. In more recent times my son remembers going for a run and having one of these beauties fly alongside him, and so of course, each winter when I walk across the fields I keep a keen eye out for them.

I first saw them this year in October. They are clever birds, and always one step ahead of me. My first sighting was close to the straw stack when an owl was hunting from the parked up digger. It flew in front of me as I walked making sure I was always a suitable distance away. If it landed on the dyke side, it was immediately hidden, if it watched me from the field I had to keep an eye on it or it would have blended in against the dark clay. We walked a complete circuit of the field like this with the owl tantalisingly close but always a safe distance away until it ended up where it began, perched on the digger bucket and I left it to hunt in peace.

After this first encounter I saw Short-eared owls on a regular basis. I say owls because there were at least two hunting the field borders and margins. They would suddenly lift up from the dyke edge and fly ahead of me. It seemed that when I walked without my camera they would fly close and perch nearby yet when I took my camera down with me they either never appeared or simply stayed two fields away. They quickly became my nemesis this year making me even more determined to capture a good photo before the winter was through.

However before too long my owl watching was interrupted by more of our winter migrants. First the Whooper swans came to feed upon the sugar beet that had been harvested next to the farm quickly followed by pink footed geese. Although we have been lucky enough to have the swans for a number of years, pink footed geese were a new species for us and they were impressive as they numbered a few hundred. I loved watching them swirl in each morning and the sound they made was incredible. Whether it was swans or geese it meant that I walked a different route in order not to disturb them. This meant that for the majority of the winter I also avoided the best area for the Short-eared owls. I do however remember one memorable occasion when the geese took flight and as I busied myself taking shots of the action a Short-eared owl flew up from the grass right in front of me. My camera was set wrong and all I could do was gaze in awe as it flapped across the field and disappeared over the hedge

The swans have flown now, the geese have too I suppose and so, during late February and into March I have kept a look out for the owls. I know that they will also soon be leaving for the moors and I rather hoped for that photo. My last sighting was on March 5th when I suddenly realised an owl was hunting from a post just a few metres away but since then, nothing. That was until this afternoon when I took an impromptu walk across the grass field and Max put up a Short-eared owl that flew over onto the ploughed field to watch us indignantly. As we walked closer it flew across two fields and watched us from the hedgerow. The sun was beautiful so I decide to take Max home and return with my camera. I was only absent for five minutes but in that time the owl had returned to the rough grass and I had missed my chance. Rather than risk disturbing it a second time I returned home.

There was, however, a winner in the whole affair. When I left Max at our house I gave him his tea. Before I returned Rob arrived home and Max asked for his tea again. Much to his delight was given a second one. I am sure he will be hoping the Short-eared owls stay just a little longer.

The Magnificent Seven.

 The hardest thing about caring for something is the letting go and that is where we currently are with the owls. These youngsters fledged the nest in September and have been lucky enough to stay on site through winter and this winter here in the Fens this year has been tough. We've had our usual share of storms but this season its the harsh temperatures that have made things particularly difficult. Last year, I could count the frosty mornings we had on one hand. This year, since Christmas, we have had two or three each week. Although we've not had so much rain, we have had misty weather which leave the grass as soggy as rainfall and makes hunting tricky. As February progresses, the weather is not yet improving but the lengthening days mean the adults are thinking of pairing up and these young owls will soon be leaving.

Owl feeding in January is my very favourite time of the year. Because of the conditions they are super keen and show really well. I am regularly met by seven owls flying low over and perching on the sheds waiting for me. They fly out of the open sheds during the worst weather and circle between the dutch barn and the combine shed. They come out of the straw and wait in the various trees nearly out of reach of my torch. They've even taken to waiting on the farm house itself either using the chimney or the television aerial as their vantage point. 

My oldest female always flies in first. She knows me so well she doesn't fly away however close I walk to her and when I throw the first handful of food onto the shed roof, I wait for the familiar "clunk" that tells me she has taken her share. If not. I end up hitting her with handfuls of day old chicks as she is unbelievably keen. Once I've moved over to the second feeding platform which is about ten metres away the other adults fly in too. The youngsters are distinguished by their reluctance to come too close and fly back and forth willing me to leave. Once I've walked towards the grain store I can see them flying in, wings held high and talons outstretched,to take the food off to their roosts. 

But just as signs of spring begin to appear there are subtle changes in the owl's behaviour. There is certainly more screeching occurring at feeding time. I assume this is the adults warning the youngsters that this is their patch and they are welcome for just a short while longer but it could also be the youngsters testing their maturity. With the atmosphere being far less amenable now and I begin to notice more movement from the young owls. One is beginning to roost in empty sheds close by, still close enough to visit the farm but certainly off site. Another is often to be seen along the river hunting the deep sides and waiting on the fence posts as it hunts for itself. I see another flying close to the road during rush hour, flying haphazardly back and forth among the traffic. I hear myself muttering to it to head back to the safety of the farm and find myself slowing down to slow the rest of the traffic too. Later that evening I make a detour on a journey to check for casualties, and when I feed I am relieved to see my magnificent seven fly in as usual, however, the incident stays with me.

I've protected these beautiful birds all winter. I've provided food and shelter but now, despite what I want to happen, nature will take control. Their instincts will take over and they will look for territories of their own. Its incredibly hard to know that they face so many uncertainties as they brave the wider world. As I drive across Fenland and see an owl hunting I will always wonder whether it is "one of mine." When the weather closes in I will think of them hungry and when I see larger birds hunting the dykes and ditches I will think of my much slighter owls coming up against such opposition. But it is not all doom and gloom. I imagine them pairing up with a mate and rearing a family and of them finding a territory as safe and accommodating as our farm. In these times of transition I am truly proud that they have found their wings.

Winter owls.

 2025 will be my fourteenth year of feeding the owls on our farm. I still vividly remember that first winter when I walked down in all weathers, when snow covered the bales and danced in my torchlight and when more than one storm buffeted the yard from all directions and sent me tumbling home to the warmth of the wood burner.

My project may not have got to its fourteenth year had I not decided to stay back one evening the following spring to realise that, once they thought I had left, owls appeared from all directions to take the food I'd given them. It was a breathtaking discovery to find that they were so close by and so quick to fly in. 

I adore walking down each evening but each season gifts me something a little different and despite it being the coldest and most inhospitable time to walk, late winter is often the most rewarding. The harsh conditions mean that the owls are keenest. They wait in the trees for me. If I am late they fly down the road towards me and my whistling call sends them spiraling upwards from the farm buildings. The youngsters from the autumn brood have been allowed to stay in situ through the worst of the weather and I have fun picking out which ones are the youngsters and which are our established adults.Our oldest female waits upon the shed roof and is always first to fly in. I'm not sure if she is bravest and showing the others it is safe to take the food or whether there is some sort of pecking order that means she gets first choice of the offerings. The situation here is so unusual it is difficult to tell which scenario is most likely.

The youngsters wait further away in the trees to the east and the west. I make sure there will be enough food for these inexperienced birds as they arguably need it the most. I feel a tenderness towards these beauties as they fly back and forth, willing me to leave so they too can take their share of the food. They do not know that within weeks they will be ousted and looking for territories of their own. When this happens, on every trip across the fens, I will be keenly watching for them. When I see Barn Owls ghosting the ditches and road sides, I will be wondering if each one was one of the beauties I've been lucky enough to watch all winter.

Sometimes they are keener than others.They'll be hungrier after wind and rain but over the years I have come to recognise that they fly in the bravest when rain is building. This week four birds flew in within touching distance, taking the food before I had chance to step away. It is breathtaking and humbling and awe-inspiring to be in the company of owls such as these.

I have no idea what 2025 will bring. Will the weather be kind to the owls? Will our adults avoid the numerous hazards and stay safe? Will their be plenty of prey to sustain their broods and how many owlets will we rear? One thing is sure, I will show up for these birds each evening and help them when I can. Thank you for being part of my journey too.