The doorbell rang half an hour before sunset. “There’s a barn owl in the field,” my nextdoor neighbour informed me, breathless with excitement. I grabbed my binoculars, pulled on my boots and made the 100-metre dash down the road. I’ve been hoping for a sighting since June 2021, when I’d heard rasping food-solicitation calls and learned that a pair had nested on the western boundary of the nine-acre hay meadow. However, despite many dusk walks and patient vigils, they remained elusive.
But not this time. To my delight, I immediately spotted the owl silently quartering for prey. As I approached, it flew along the fence line, and I slowed my pace, afraid it might startle. Unperturbed, it hovered, then dropped into the long grass just a metre from where I was standing, descending in a swift, almost vertical dive.
Unfortunately, the owl’s presence hadn’t just attracted human attention. As it resumed its search for rodents, it was mobbed relentlessly by a trio of screeching herring gulls. When one bold strike made contact with its back, the raptor abandoned its hunt, retreating to the cover of the tree line.
Fifteen minutes later, it reappeared, its pale form stark against the deepening twilight. After flying one circuit, it landed lightly on a rusting turquoise trailer, long abandoned in the corner of the field, its talons curling around the corroded metal. Swivelling its head to check that its attackers had retired, it angled its heart-shaped facial disk to funnel soundwaves towards its asymmetrically placed ears, relying on its acute hearing to pinpoint the rustling of small mammals in the undergrowth.
Perch hunting reduces heat loss and conserves energy – a sensible tactic on a chilly March evening, but the owl’s intended victim left me questioning its judgment. As it swooped down into the scrub, I expected to see it emerge with a field vole, common shrew or wood mouse in its talons. Instead, a rabbit shot out, flashing the white underside of its tail as it made its escape. There have been reports of barn owls preying on juveniles when the opportunity arises, but this robust adult was never going to make it on to the menu.
• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at guardianbookshop.com and get a 15% discount
