It is a cold March dusk by a small water meadow stream, where I am watching the twists, turns and rapid flaps of a hunting barn owl and sounds of other birds going to nightfall. All that for two hours. The recent days have been good with deep spring warmth into my back. I see this with my cats who know the sheltered garden corners to bask and stretch out the body to purr -sigh with contentment.
There’s still cool east or north in the wind. The western sky graduates into pastel hues. This is not a sunset my photos can do justice, rather light watercolour washes of pink orange and blue near the horizon setting the trees in their winter dress as starkly beautiful silhouettes. Dimpsy and hobgoblin time of the water meadows – along with the barn owl.
The owl started hunting the locality when there were good levels of light in early evening about 6pm. I was walking along the lane to cross the river bridge, along the deep clarty ruts of the track with emerging blackthorn blossom, to enter the meadow carrying extra clothing, chair, flask and crystallized gingers.
Blackthorn hedged track
Where shall I sit? Think of the wind direction, likely routes across the meadow of roe deer and badger I know live very near by as well as otter I’ve seen previously on this stretch. This quiet sitting out just waiting to see what comes along, absorbing the textures, shades, sounds of the land, resurrect memories of numerous hours spent in high seats, tucked into a bank slope or slow, twig conscious stalks on the moors, in-bye fields and forestry edges in the north. That soft rustle of wind as it drops away at deeper dusk, through the taller grasses and dead reed stems where the shadows creep into deeper hues of greys. Oh – very reminiscent.
Although the winter has been mild with few hard ground frosts, there’s been a lot of rain no doubt hindering silent flight and body condition for successful hunting. With luck there was a courtship earlier in the year with a mate nearby for this individual. I don’t think this is the same owl territory as from the family I’ve watched for the last 3 years at a Dutch barn over the way. Perhaps it is the owl I see recently hunting along the nearer main road verges and so vulnerable to the fast traffic.
The cream and lightly speckled owl quartered the meadow with forays over the tall hedge to adjacent pasture or recent arable cultivation. Sometimes, the bird would fly close by, highligting the typical heart shaped facial disc, large forward facing eyes and white breast. 
And yes – the flight seemed silent and ghost like. I saw no successful kills from the few occasions of fast winged hover with almost constant small darts side to side up and down before a quick descent. The bird alighted for half a minute or so on fence posts, looking quite small and delicate, slowly swivelling its head and vision range. On other observations nearby, I watched a barn owl carrying a vole in its talons being harrassed by a single crow. Both disappeared behind a shed and I don’t know what happened. Next steps include trying to photograph the bird myself. (Photo -S Ward https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Barn_Owl,_Lancashire)
View across the meadow to watch a hunting barn owl
The small meadows are sheep grazed as semi improved pasture with areas of more tussocky sward. The shallow depressions and channels take the river overflow and like a slow tide back and forth creates a mosaic of drier to wet ground. Sometimes they flood – as they should do on a floodplain.
Flooding across the water meadows early spring 2016
Modern day sounds permeate from the tractor with its bright lights ploughing 3 fields away and the fast main road traffic – but there is still tranquillity.
Time to go – no bats out and becoming too dark to see much on the stream or along the tree lines. Little moonlight but chilled, calm night air and stars as I walk back to the car. I’m fortunate and can just go home and open a cupboard for food. The barn owl needs to hunt.
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