Short ears

I had so many things to do at home today that I didn't know which to tackle first - a problem I solved by not tackling any of them, and going to the owl field instead. The owls largely kept themselves to themselves, at least on the south side of the field, which was pretty much jammed with cars and togs, and I suspect I'd have done better to have walked round to the north side where it was almost certainly quieter. 

On the plus side though, the light was lovely; and better yet I finally met Sheol, after many years of following his journal and admiring his images. Because we already felt as though we knew each other through Blipfoto, we were soon chatting like long-time neighbours, and this helped the largely owl-free afternoon to pass very pleasantly. Sheol was paying his first visit to the Cotswolds owls, but I hope and expect that it won't be his last.

I caught this perched shortie about ten minutes before sunset, but by this stage the sun was already partly obscured behind some trees, which is why the light is a little odd. I like it though, not just for that transfixing amber stare, but for the little tufts on the top of the bird's head that give the Short-eared Owl its common name. Of course they're not ears, but a signalling device to other owls, and they're rarely displayed, so it was nice to see just a hint of them here. 

Twenty minutes earlier the Barn Owl in my first extra had given us what was undoubtedly the best fly-past of the day, in proper golden hour light. It kept to the middle of the field though, so my photo is heavily cropped, and it's softer on the bird's eye than I would have liked. My second extra was taken ninety minutes before the Barn Owl, at which point it looked quite possible that we were going to have an owl-free afternoon - so when a couple of RAF Juno HT1 helicopters appeared over the northern horizon, every lens at the wall turned in their direction. I can't help wondering what the rear passenger was thinking as he looked down at us all - I bet he wasn't expecting to be quite so heavily papped when he left his base this morning.