Owl Spotting at Burwell Fen

One of the things I have learnt while Andrew and I have been together is that birders talk. It seems that as soon as an interesting bird is seen, the whole network of local birders know about it. It was a few years ago that the local population of birders was set atwitter by regular sightings of short-eared owls feeding over Burwell Fen. I’ve always found owls fascinating. They have a mysterious, ethereal quality enhanced by their almost ghostly appearance in low light. I remember sitting in my bedroom at night as a child and hearing owls hooting outside – it always conjured a feeling of the supernatural. So, about two years ago, with a good tip off from birder friends about where it was best to see the owls, we set off just before dusk in search of them. As we stood on the fen amongst a large group of birders eagerly clutching binoculars and cameras, the weather closed in, a squall of rain started to hiss down and a fierce wind whipped up. It wasn’t exactly perfect hunting weather for owls. We left after some time, having seen only a brief flash of one owl’s wing.

The Konik ponies graze semi-wild on Burwell Fen

A couple of weeks ago, a friend told us again that the owls were back. So, not discouraged by our previous experience, on Tuesday we set out to find them. It was a crisp, still evening, just before dusk, when we set out on our expedition. If I were an owl, this was certainly more like the kind of weather in which I’d choose to hunt. We paused for a moment on a high point where we could see for miles over the flat fenland below. Although our main aim was to see the owls, there was so much more to appreciate besides. It was an evening painted with one of the sunsets I so enthused about in my previous post. The deep pinks and soft peaches of the sky perfectly silhouetted the Konik ponies which grazed calmly on the plain below. At first, the area looked surprisingly empty, but a proper look through the binoculars revealed a small group of people huddled by a fence in the distance. Perhaps, we thought, they had seen something.

The open fen landscape offers some stunning sunsets

On our way to see what the group had found, we passed a field of highland cattle. One of the methods by which the National Trust maintains this fenland as naturally as possible is to allow the highland cattle to graze the land. I suppose you could see them as living lawnmowers and fertilisers. We noticed a young calf approach his mother to suckle. I’ve always found this display of the bond between a mammalian mother and her offspring to be one of the most touching sights in nature. As we paused to take a quick photo of the cows, we saw a flash of white emerge from the field behind them. It quickly darted back down to the ground where it disappeared. This could only be one thing – the first sight of our elusive owls.

Highland cattle also graze the land

As the bird rose again from its hiding place, we realised that this was not one of the far-famed short-eared owls, but a barn owl. Its amber back shone with the reflection of the fading sun as it glided across the fields and dropped again beside a small body of water. We quickly made our way nearer to where it had landed, trying to move as silently as possible. We arrived at the spot where the other birders had gathered and, to our delight, we caught sight of the owl we had been following, along with another barn owl and a short-eared owl. We had finally found what we were looking for! The short-eared owl was easy to distinguish from the barn owls owing to its dark speckled coat and striking yellow eyes surrounded by a distinctive mask of black feathers.

A barn owl glides across a distant field

We watched the drama unfold as the birds scoured the land for food. Most of the time they gracefully glided a few metres over the ground, ignoring each others’ presence, but all of a sudden an almighty screech pierced the calm as one of the barn owls and the short-eared owl battled it out mid-air. The other barn owl decided not to get involved in the scuffle but instead rested beside the water, seemingly just watching and waiting for its dinner. The elegance with which the owls swept to the ground to capture their prey was breathtaking. We stood transfixed on the action before us until the sun finally sank below the horizon and we could no longer discern their shapes.

While one barn owl rests, another flies past on the hunt

Having seen these fantastic birds at such close range has not reduced their magical quality in my eyes. Their translucent beauty and grace on the wing has just added to their allure. I have no doubt we’ll go back there again very soon to catch up on the next instalment of their story.