Saturday, 26 December 2015

An Unexpected Surprise


After a coursework deadline induced hiatus, we’re finally back and blogging! Last weekend we decided to revisit a favourite old haunt, Wicken Fen, in the hope of spotting the elusive short-eared owls at dusk. If you have been reading this blog for a while, you will have seen that we had some luck in seeing them earlier in the year.


Getting a good view of owls hunting is thrilling. Their graceful surveys of the area and high-speed, high-precision darts to the ground are extraordinary. But they can be picky creatures, favouring still, dry evenings. In the stark flatlands of East Anglia, this makes choosing the perfect evening to spot them somewhat tricky. We live about half an hour away from Wicken so at best we can guess based on our weather and the forecast what the conditions will be like there. On our most recent visit we got it slightly wrong. It was a beautiful evening but deceptively blustery. “You won’t see much out there tonight, too much wind”, muttered a birder who had ventured further onto the Fen but was now returning, defeated, to his car.


Slightly disheartened, we continued nonetheless towards a spot where we have seen the owls before. As we stood waiting, with the wind battering our faces, we started to lose hope of spying the fleeting birds. Then all of a sudden, in a ghostly flash, a barn owl rose from behind the bank of the lode and darted into the russet undergrowth. This wasn’t the type of owl we had come looking for, but obviously we were delighted. Despite the gusts, we watched entranced for a few minutes as the barn owl stealthily hunted. Then, just as suddenly as he appeared, he shot down below the raised bank and out of sight.


We thought that we had been lucky for this brief show and assumed that we probably weren’t going to be in for any more treats. But we were wrong. Just minutes after the barn owl had disappeared, a large bird appeared from behind us and shot behind the bushes. We were pretty sure what we had seen but the apparition had been so brief and unexpected that we had to wait to be sure. As the bird rose again from behind the foliage, his black eye mask, wide facial disk and piercing yellow eyes gave away his identity. At last, a short-eared owl!


He too stayed for only a few minutes to hunt, before darting into the distance, his image dissolving into the darkening sky. I was a little disappointed that we didn’t have the opportunity to get any good photos of the owls but generally pleased that the unfavourable conditions hadn’t entirely deprived us of an encounter with these striking birds.


As we were about to leave, I noticed out of the corner of my eye a fluid black mass dancing in the sky, far in the distance. A mighty murmuration of thousands of starlings was sweeping through the air, each bird synchronised with the one beside it, as though all the birds had combined to become one entity. As this was my first murmuration sighting, I was particularly enthralled. The mass twirled throughout the sky, becoming at times nearly invisible and then suddenly bold and inky as they turned all at once in their harmonised flight. Gradually the mass decreased, as from time-to-time small groups broke off and shot down into the trees to go to sleep. We kept anticipating that the whole conglomeration was about to disappear as they would teasingly dip close to the treetops, but then at the last minute shoot up again. As we watched enraptured, it was suddenly as if a responsible starling had called “LIGHTS OUT IN 5 MINUTES!” because the airborne assembly all at once dived for the nearest woodland canopy. The starlings knew that it was time for bed and had sunk into the trees to roost for the night. We took their departure as a cue for us to leave.




This is one of the things that I love about nature – its unpredictability. We had come out with our minds set on finding owls, but were also treated to one of the most beautiful, entrancing, and moving displays that this country has to offer, on a reserve which isn’t even famous for its spectacular murmurations. It just goes to show that you shouldn’t immediately lose heart if your target species is being elusive – there might be something even more spectacular just around the corner.


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