4 July 2013

We breed owls. Barn owls. Not really, no...

But it feels as if we do.   When we first moved here we realised there was a nest in the roof over the verandah, which has a knotty-pine ceiling.   Some planks had rotted and fallen out near the gutter and that was where they gained access.

We hate rats and love owls, so the arrangement suits us well.

Then they moved away and weren't seen again for a few years and we thought we had somehow offended them, but not so.   Possibly one of the pair was killed or perhaps the owls that subsequently moved in were from a later generation, I don't know.   What I do know is that we haven't been without owls for most of the past five years, and a new clutch of four to five fledglings leave that nest every six to nine months on average.   That's a lot of owls.   We must be keeping the valley and surrounding mountains well stocked.

It is totally delightful when the young ones fledge, because they emerge not knowing where to go, what to do, or what they are looking at.   Sometimes they gently drift down to the ground like a falling leaf.   Seen here, they often alight on a window sill, and then take on threatening stances when approached from the inside.

This one started swaying from side to side, as if to say "bring it on..."


We spend a lot of time on the verandah or at the fireplace outside in the evenings, when we are privy to the antics of the new fledglings.   What makes it especially delightful is that the barn owl mom starts incubating the eggs as soon as she had lain the first one, although she may lay another four or five eggs over the two weeks following.   As soon as the first one has hatched there is increased activity as the parents take turns all night long hunting and bringing in rats for the growing family to devour.   They   hatch one after the other, with a few days in between.   As long as the food keeps coming all the chicks grow up in perfect harmony with one another.   The result is that we have a new fledgling emerging from the roof every few days for up to two weeks at a time, giving us a lot of viewing pleasure.

Because he smokes Jamie sits on the verandah in the evenings watching series on his laptop or engaging in other activities which he can do outside.   Because of this habit he has had the pleasure of getting up close and personal with the young owls on many an occasion.   One evening one alighted on the sofa next to him and turned its little swivel head to take a good look, quizzically swaying its head from side to side as owls do.   Jamie involuntarily started to chuckle, which made the little head move from side much quicker and the more Jamie chuckled the quicker the movements became and then the owlet decided it was possibly best to leave.

The other evening he had the closest encounter yet when sitting with his feet crossed on the coffee table.   The young owl dropped from the roof, spread its wings and gently flew towards him alighting on his toe.   Fortunately it is winter and he was wearing closed shoes because those talons are like razor blades!   (Spoken like one who has had the misfortune of close contact once).   Before he could swing his cellphone/camera into action though it sort of lost its grip and flapped a few meters away to the chairs (upended at night to discourage the dogs).



... when life exists not so much in breathing but in those moments that take your breath away ...

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