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The underbelly of the mirk and low cloud touched the Wold top and the dark wood of scattered scrub paled to grey. Damp ground, moist air, the great flatland seeped before me. What chance to watch owls? such soggy, bowed cover for voles, a soup where everything is everything, no edges, no hope?
In the calm, the bit bewtween something that has happened and will be happening were fieldfare, lots of fieldfare. chack, chack, chack. Over there, over here, on the tree tops, all over but barely visible. Always on the move, can't see them, can't see their enemy.
Across the layers of greys, a golden shape on elastic wings.....an owl. fantastic.
So distant, so small, so in place in this vast flatland.
Not at all new to me but new to me. My excitement at this first glance something of childhood.
Fascination and bursting questions drew me to it. I wanted to be closer..and then one more, there were now two. As the chack, chacks chacked I walked. The acute triangle of a long straight road, always with an eye on the owls. They did their thing, small squares, larger squares and then even more, 3, 4, 5 and then 6. Like an old stump I stood still and it happened all around me. Elastic wings, serious bright eyes and feathered killing feet. It was owl land.
I left site ethralled once more, I left the site in body only.
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