Tricksy

Everyone arrived at the owl field with high hopes today, and we all saw plenty of owl action, but most of the people I spoke to at the end of the afternoon seemed to be leaving just a little bit disappointed. There were at least three shorties flying, and after my previous three owl-free visits that in itself was a blessing, but they mostly kept their distance from the walls, and hunted along the ridge in the middle of the field. 

I'd already changed position a couple of times, and was by now about three quarters of the way round the perimeter from where I'd started, and I'd become so frustrated with repeated distant fly-pasts that I'd begun going through my shots and deleting the worst ones in-camera, when I glanced up and saw this happening right in front of me. I won't repeat the word I used, but it's one I try to avoid the Boy Wonder hearing, because the first time he says it in front of his mother I know exactly who's going to be getting the blame for teaching it to him. Luckily I can multitask, so while practising my Anglo Saxon I swung up the camera and fired a burst, getting just two consecutive shots that were both good before the owl - yet again - turned away. The rest were diminishing images of its disappearing backside, and are now consigned to the folder Exceptional Bird Bums I Have Photographed.

My second photo tonight shows a confrontation that happened pretty much above my head. The Short-eared Owl on the right (which I think might be Hillyblips' and my Quarry Owl) had caught a vole, and was being attacked for it by another shortie and a Crow. The second owl gave up pretty quickly, but another crow came in to join the attack, and the two of them flew at Quarry Owl repeatedly until she lost her nerve and dropped her prey. The corvids immediately dived after it, and Quarry Owl flew away northwards - though she later circled back round and took up a watching position on a tree branch in the coppice, right above the field corner where HB and I have photographed her several times before.

With the days drawing out, and the owls elusive, I stayed up on the scarp past my pumpkin hour, and got home with barely half an hour to grab some dinner before rushing back out to choir practice. About which, the less said the better. Remember the alto mantra - It'll be fine by [insert date approximately a month after the scheduled performance] - and.... breathe.