You are welcome to join me in this 7th of a series of articles taking a look back over my shoulder at some sightings that have not only delighted us but startled and surprised us.
We absolutely love owls and regularly hear the duet of male and female Tawny Owls near our home. With relatively broad faces and large eyes, they perhaps have the most human-like faces of all birds and of course many of them carry with them the mystery of being night-birds.
In 1999 we made the first of 5 visits to a village in the south of France called Le Somail and from our veranda at the back of our gîte we had a view across vineyards and the rears of several nearby village buildings. We soon noticed that in the evening, one of the nearby roofs was host to a Little Owl, and after a time we realised that this was almost a daily occurrence. In fact village residents told us that there had always been an owl on that roof, every evening for as long as anyone could remember.
The Owl would simply stand on a corner of the tiled roof and gaze around until the light failed and then it would glide away over the vineyards presumably to hunt. On one humorous occasion we saw it come stomping out of a gap in the tiles, from where it presumably roosted in the roof space, and having made 3-4 steps towards its usual place on the corner of the roof, it turned around and stomped back to the gap and disappeared inside the roof. Haven’t we all felt like that from time to time? If there were parties of Swifts zooming around the building the Owl would watch these intently, its head turning to follow them through the air and its fascination with Swifts seemed just as strong 18 years later on our final visit in 2017.
By the time we visited for the fourth time the roof had been repaired and there was no access into the roof space but a Little Owl still appeared on the same roof on most evenings. Since the repair it favoured standing on a chimney from where it would still watch the Swifts flying by. The pic below shows this and I was fortunate to capture a Swift in the same shot.
In 2015 we had an extraordinary visit by an owl to our gîte, and this time it was a Tawny Owl. The windows around our upper-storey accommodation had security bars fitted across the outside, with a small gap between the bars and the glass. Late one evening we had just finished our dinner when we heard loud scuffling noises from the window nearest the trees that grew around one end of the building, so we crept over to it to take a look. We found a Tawny Owl trapped in the space between the bars and the window, and it was not happy to see us. It tried to flap its wings, and twisted and turned in its panic, and this is when something quite wonderful happened. Troubadoris was nearest the owl and she began making slow and gentle hand gestures while talking to the owl in soft, smooth voice and to my astonishment the owl watched her hands, stopped flapping madly and within a minute had re-arranged its plumage and calmed down. After another 15 seconds or so, it turned around and stepped coolly out through the bars and flew away. Believe it or believe it not, Troubadoris was an owl-whisperer on that occasion. We were too concerned for the bird’s welfare to start getting cameras out and are now just happy to remember that it recovered its wits enough to calmly exit the trap of the bars and escape.
This was not the only time an owl came to visit our holiday accommodation but on the second occasion it took place 1,350 miles / 2,200km north of Le Somail, on the Isle of Islay off the south-west coast of Scotland. Unusually for us we were staying in an upstairs apartment in a farmhouse with a view over sheep grazing meadows to the sea and a ridge of hills in the distance. We had finished our evening meal and were watching a DVD movie when there was a clattering and scratching noise from one of the windows. As it was dark it seemed clear that the culprit would be an owl but since the windows were not barred we were puzzled by the noises.
On the window-ledge there stood a Barn Owl in the middle of some complicated preening of its wing feathers which entailed flapping its wings madly every few seconds, hence the racket we could hear. It saw us approach the window and turned its back on us then finished its preening. It had probably landed here before and was used to apparitions of humans in the room that didn’t threaten it. After a minute or two, without even saying goodbye, it floated off over the garden below and headed for the sheep grazing beyond. Now, all bird plumage is beautiful when seen so close but I have a feeling that the Barnie’s plumage my just be the most exquisite I have ever seen.
Lee
We absolutely love owls and regularly hear the duet of male and female Tawny Owls near our home. With relatively broad faces and large eyes, they perhaps have the most human-like faces of all birds and of course many of them carry with them the mystery of being night-birds.
In 1999 we made the first of 5 visits to a village in the south of France called Le Somail and from our veranda at the back of our gîte we had a view across vineyards and the rears of several nearby village buildings. We soon noticed that in the evening, one of the nearby roofs was host to a Little Owl, and after a time we realised that this was almost a daily occurrence. In fact village residents told us that there had always been an owl on that roof, every evening for as long as anyone could remember.
The Owl would simply stand on a corner of the tiled roof and gaze around until the light failed and then it would glide away over the vineyards presumably to hunt. On one humorous occasion we saw it come stomping out of a gap in the tiles, from where it presumably roosted in the roof space, and having made 3-4 steps towards its usual place on the corner of the roof, it turned around and stomped back to the gap and disappeared inside the roof. Haven’t we all felt like that from time to time? If there were parties of Swifts zooming around the building the Owl would watch these intently, its head turning to follow them through the air and its fascination with Swifts seemed just as strong 18 years later on our final visit in 2017.
By the time we visited for the fourth time the roof had been repaired and there was no access into the roof space but a Little Owl still appeared on the same roof on most evenings. Since the repair it favoured standing on a chimney from where it would still watch the Swifts flying by. The pic below shows this and I was fortunate to capture a Swift in the same shot.
In 2015 we had an extraordinary visit by an owl to our gîte, and this time it was a Tawny Owl. The windows around our upper-storey accommodation had security bars fitted across the outside, with a small gap between the bars and the glass. Late one evening we had just finished our dinner when we heard loud scuffling noises from the window nearest the trees that grew around one end of the building, so we crept over to it to take a look. We found a Tawny Owl trapped in the space between the bars and the window, and it was not happy to see us. It tried to flap its wings, and twisted and turned in its panic, and this is when something quite wonderful happened. Troubadoris was nearest the owl and she began making slow and gentle hand gestures while talking to the owl in soft, smooth voice and to my astonishment the owl watched her hands, stopped flapping madly and within a minute had re-arranged its plumage and calmed down. After another 15 seconds or so, it turned around and stepped coolly out through the bars and flew away. Believe it or believe it not, Troubadoris was an owl-whisperer on that occasion. We were too concerned for the bird’s welfare to start getting cameras out and are now just happy to remember that it recovered its wits enough to calmly exit the trap of the bars and escape.
This was not the only time an owl came to visit our holiday accommodation but on the second occasion it took place 1,350 miles / 2,200km north of Le Somail, on the Isle of Islay off the south-west coast of Scotland. Unusually for us we were staying in an upstairs apartment in a farmhouse with a view over sheep grazing meadows to the sea and a ridge of hills in the distance. We had finished our evening meal and were watching a DVD movie when there was a clattering and scratching noise from one of the windows. As it was dark it seemed clear that the culprit would be an owl but since the windows were not barred we were puzzled by the noises.
On the window-ledge there stood a Barn Owl in the middle of some complicated preening of its wing feathers which entailed flapping its wings madly every few seconds, hence the racket we could hear. It saw us approach the window and turned its back on us then finished its preening. It had probably landed here before and was used to apparitions of humans in the room that didn’t threaten it. After a minute or two, without even saying goodbye, it floated off over the garden below and headed for the sheep grazing beyond. Now, all bird plumage is beautiful when seen so close but I have a feeling that the Barnie’s plumage my just be the most exquisite I have ever seen.
Lee
