The owls make an appearance on May Day

We were enjoying our May Day Sunday lunch when a small white dot appeared at the entrance to the owl house, which is visible from our dining table. Shoving aside the roast potatoes, we quickly set up the photography equipment. Tech spec: coffee table, telescope, camera on a tripod and two paperback books that are just the right thickness.

Our equipment. Note the entrance hole to the owl box in the camera viewing pane

We haven't seen the owls since Christmas Eve so it was great to know that they're still there. It's egg laying season and we have our fingers crossed for another clutch of babies. Maybe this one was poking its head out in the day time because things are just too cramped below deck in the nesting area? Or maybe it's just a bit stinky inside? We saw lots of flies coming out... and barn owls are known for their squalid living arrangements.

The long view: see the little white dot?

We took it in turns to man the camera and, after 1 hr and 30 minutes of neck cramps and zoom fiddling, this little white face was the result.

Christmas floods and bird-spotting: buzzards, barn owls, cormorants, lapwing, herons and LOTS of water

It has been an exceptionally wet and windy December and the floods are up. Fields as far as the eye can see have been transformed into lakes.

This is great news for the cormorants as they swim through the water hunting for trout that have strayed over the flooded riverbanks (a gang of them have taken up positions atop a dying ash tree opposite our kitchen window where they dry their wings in the promise of sunshine and spy on unsuspecting lunch items below).

Flocks of lapwing are also enjoying the winter feast and we've spotted a heron or two as well as the usual swans. On Christmas Eve-Eve I was lucky enough to catch a rare and spectacular close-up view of one of our local buzzards and on Christmas Eve itself our two beautiful barn owls appeared out of their nest box and flew up the road, right past our house. What a wonderful treat.

There was rather a lot of birdsong in the River Field this afternoon - robins and blackbirds, I suspect, among others - and the fantastic sound of gushing floodwater as it raced through the hedgerows and under the roads from one field to the next. I would love to find a way to record it. Must hit up Chris Watson for some tips...

Confused buds

Raindrops on roses... or is it willow?

Owl update

Our three baby owlets are all grown up, out in the world, catching their own dinner, roosting in their own trees, generally being proper grown up owls. There have been a few sightings in nearby locations, but in truth we'll never know exactly where they went.

They dispersed at the end of July. Over the course of four weeks, we watched them emerge from the nest, learn to fly, learn to hunt, get stronger and take off on their own. Since then, it's been kind of quiet - no little owly faces poking out of the nest box by day when they should be asleep, no night time screeching, not even any pellets.

There have been some signs of life, though. I saw what I think was a female twice, I've found female feathers near the nest, and spotted plenty of distinctive chalky-white runny owl poo underneath what could only be described as 5* roosting locations beside the river.

Owl poo on an ash sapling, underneath a popular roosting spot in a riverside willow

Despite expressions of doubt from the experts at Birdwatch Ireland, I have been holding out hope that the mum (Francie) is sitting on a second clutch. That could explain why the first clutch dispersed so quickly (i.e. some new babies hatched, no room at the inn for the adolescents, get out and fend for yourselves, etc).

I got quite excited last sunday when I spotted a smaller-than-adult and sort of owl-shaped bird sitting on the nest box's 'veranda', but on closer inspection it turned out to be a kestrel. Which is also quite cool, but not as cool as an owlet.

Conservation - it's all about people, really

One of best things I learned from our summer owl experience was that community conservation is as much about people as it is about nature. I can't count the number of locals who stopped me in the road to enquire about the new residents, the number of excited text messages and emails I received, the flurry of visits from friends old and new all eager to catch a glimpse of the babies learning to fly and hunt, the near constant requests for new photos and updates on this blog, the donations of colourful owl drawings from children... More often than not, I'd arrive home in the evening to find at least one person camped out in my driveway with a pair of binoculars!

Neighbours I never knew had even the slightest interest in wildlife were telling me how they'd been out watching the owls every night and shared details they'd observed of their daily habits. Farmers - often assumed to be skeptical of all things 'birds and bees' - were genuinely delighted, and many pledged to erect their own nest boxes to accommodate this family's offspring. It was a revelation. I was so heartened to see how these beautiful creatures could connect and inspire so many local people.
                                               
                                      

Though I regret not taking as many as I could have done, these photos give some insight into the fun we had with pellets and binoculars and my mum's telescope, the latter of which facilitated 'civilised' bird watching from the comfort of our dining room (with gin and tonics, of course).

                            

Oh what a night...

On Friday, Ken Kinsella took these amazing up-close photos of our owls from a temporary hide he erected in the field. "Friday evening was very bright and ensconced in my little hide I waited until 10pm before the first BO appeared," he said. "It immediately flew away followed by the others in rapid order; an indication of the chicks' maturity."

This is the adult female, Francie

So it seems that our little owlets are growing up! It's all happening so fast. Two weeks ago they were only just emerging from the nest. Last week we watched them learn how to hunt. And now, they're fledged! Last night, we went down the river at about 11pm and hid under a beech tree as the owls flew up and down the meadow, hunting. We could hear them screeching - a haunting and almost violent sound, it's no mystery that these birds are associated with death and the darkness in folklore. Watching them glide above us so silently was incredible.

We expect them to continue to return to the nest for a few weeks yet as they get used to life on their own, but there's a chance that the mum has laid a second clutch. If so, she'll chase this lot away from the nest when the new babies hatch so we'll be keeping an eye out for that behaviour in the coming weeks.

In other news, last night we invented a new cocktail that we've named 'Francie's Parliament' in honour of the mama owl. Here's the recipe:

Take a big jug and put in...

Loads of ice

Two pear ice lollies

Loads of frozen raspberries

Elderflower cordial (homemade)

Gin

Fizzy water (or Prosecco if you're on a mission)

Swish it about a bit and enjoy!

Trail camera in action!

Our motion-sensor trail camera (also funded by the Veolia Environment Community Fund) has come into its own this week and captured some truly ghostly images of our owls.

    

See the creepy eyes in the background?*

 

I think this is an 'in for the kill' shot: look at the legs shooting down!

   

Just landed (NB This shot was taken before I set the date and time properly on the camera)

*Sadly I think the creepy eyes are actually the upstairs lights in Caroline and Ivan's house :(

It's a family of five. FIVE!!!!

See? Mum, Dad and three babies. I took this photo hunkered down among the oats (sorry Mr Reilly, I stuck to the tracks I swear).

Update: I've been thinking about names. The collective noun for owls is a 'parliament', so it seems only right to name the dad George (after George Clinton). My dad used to tell stories about Francie the owl when I was little, so that's what we'll call the mum. As for the chicks, last night I was introduced to the story of 'Owl Babies' and, seeing as the three chicks are steps and stairs just like the characters in the story, we'll call them (from biggest to smallest) Sarah, Percy and Bill. 

Barn Owls: are you ready for your close up?

Thanks to Ken Kinsella for his sensitive photographing of our beautiful Barn Owls last night. Here are some of his pictures:

Mum (Francie) on the right, chick (as yet unnamed) on the left. At the moment we're not sure if the third bird we saw on Friday night is the Dad or another chick. It's quite dark by the time they emerge from the nest so very hard to tell who's who. We'll keep trying to figure it out and report back as soon as possible!

No, wait, it's three

At least three. We definitely saw three. We *may* have seen four, but we're not certain. We only got photos of two at a time, though. What we assume to be the mum and dad came out first and flew up into the trees, leaving the juvenile (again, assuming this) to sit on the ledge and practice his/her wing-flapping.

Here are the best photos so far:

Two!

Two-it Two (sorry I couldn't resist)

A little owly face

Looks like a fluffy juvenile, right? Or maybe he's just shaking his tail feather

Little owly face again

A perfect profile

...and the best til last :)

Thanks to Lyn and Mike for coming down and patiently waiting to take these shots. I think we need a parparazzo lens though to really get the detail in low light. Any volunteers?

And then there were two...

So we finally confirmed beyond any reasonable doubt that it was in fact a Barn Owl, as expected, when we caught a glimpse of it flying out of the box about two weeks ago. Our local newspaper the Kilkenny People ran a lovely piece on us in this week's edition. But I wish we'd waited until next week to tell the world because - and I'm still in shock here - I just looked out the window with the binoculars and THERE ARE TWO!!!!

I can't believe it. TWO!!! A pair. I watched them for about 20 minutes, preening their feathers and waking up to the night.

See if you can make them out from these absolutely awful photos (low light, hand-held compact camera and binoculars do not a great shot make, as I discovered).

Can you sort of see them? Two beige blobs sitting on the edge of the nest box? 

One of which looks like it might be part of a tree but isn't?

I need a better camera. Damn.

Here's the leftovers from a recent meal for one of them.

And here's a pic of the piece from the Kilkenny People - I'll have to let them know so they can put an update in next week's paper.

Inside an owl's pellet

Using some very scientific equipment including mum's hairpin, a pokey thing from a manicure kit and a Henry VIII ruler I bought at Hampton Court Palace in London when I was 8 (With My Own Money), I began to dissect the owl pellet.

Owl pellets are basically little balls of undigestible bones, nails and fur that owls sick up rather than poo out. This one was found spat out on the grass under the owl box. Here it is before I started fiddling with it:

Here's a skull I found and a piece of vertebrae, I think:

Here are some claws, a rib and a bit of backbone:

Ok so obviously it's a small rodent, but there my knowledge runs out. Any suggestions anyone?

We have an owl!

What better way to return to The River Field blog than with news of our latest arrival…

Here is an owl pellet taken from the base of the box Paddy put up two years ago. Last night, Caroline, Ivan and their two little Wildlife Detectives Isabel (4) and Juliette (2) saw the owl flying out of its nest as they were returning from their Valentine's Day marshmallow-roasting session at the bonfire. They called me to share the news and so this morning I went down for a closer look - which is when I found this very fresh pellet...


Now the big question is "What type of owl is it?"

We're really hoping for a Barn Owl because there are SO few of them left in Ireland (nobody knows exactly how many, we haven't counted, but a rough guess is about 400 to 500 breeding pairs). The box was intended for a Barn Owl (we got the plans from the Barn Owl Trust in the UK) and as far as we know they're the only ones that like to live in boxes, but we haven't seen it yet, so we can't be 100% sure.

Any kind of owl would do, though. We're not that fussy.

According to Birdwatch Ireland, Snowy Owls only visit bogs in the north-west during winter when they get hungry in the Arctic, so it's not likely to be one of those. Short Eared Owls sometimes visit mountain uplands and coastal lowlands in the south and east during the winter and, on the rare occasions that they do breed, they do it in the mountains so the chances are it isn't one of them either.

It's more likely to be a Long Eared Owl or a Barn Owl.

Long Eared Owls (let's call them LEOs for short) are common all across Ireland and, unlike BOs (see what I did there?), nobody's particularly worried about them. The big reason for this seems to be that there are plenty of places for them to live. LEOs like to roost in dense stands of trees, especially conifer forests - and Ireland has a good few of those. Barn Owls on the other hand are facing extinction in Ireland, which is why they're 'Red List'-ed.

We know what has pushed them to the brink - homelessness, starvation and poisoning, basically - but we don't know which has had the biggest impact (though it hardly seems to matter). There isn't much information, nor is there much money to be spent collecting said information. The main ways scientists (and therefore policy-makers) find out about birds like the Barn Owl are through volunteers calling Birdwatch Ireland or the National Biodiversity Data Centre with sightings, taking part in the Bird Atlas survey or sending records to BirdTrack. And how many people do you know who do that? Yes, exactly.

An absence of Barn Owls, Barn Owl data, or both? (BirdTrack, 2015)

A Barn Owl's favourite place to live is in the hollow of an old Elm tree. Which is problematic because, thanks to Dutch Elm disease, there aren't many Elms left (let alone old ones that might have holes in). A second preference would be the hollow of any old tree, but since Ireland's forest cover is mostly very new (less than 100 years old), there aren't many hollow old trees around - of any species. Their third favourite place to live is old ruins and barns (hence their name). Ireland used to have lots of these, but we knocked a lot of them down during the Celtic Tiger to build new ones, or they were neglected and fell down on their own. All of which leaves the Barn Owl out in the cold…

Barn Owl habitats (Birdwatch Ireland, 2015)

…which mightn't be so awful, if it wasn't hungry and poisoned too. The loss of small scale tillage, the change from hay to silage and the removal of hedgerows across rural Ireland have meant that there are fewer and fewer places to look for food, and less food to eat in those places. All the while the food that is available is frequently riddled with toxic poisons laid down by the likes of you and I to keep mice and rats away from our houses. These 'bio-accumulate' in predators like owls, slowly killing them (much like neonicotinoids and various other pesticides are doing to bees, but that's a whole other blog post). A research project based between UCC and Birdwatch Ireland is seeking owl carcasses in order to test their livers for toxins and try to figure out how they died, so hopefully we'll have some data in the near future.

In the meantime, I'll be listening out for a hoot (LEO) or a screech (BO) this evening… Will post news of species identification as soon as possible!