Author: David Bradley

One evening in late November, I was once again, hoping to catch sight of the Starling murmurations that occur over the Broad Lane balancing pond. As mentioned in a previous, issue the local Starlings and their continental counterparts will often roost in the reed bed there, last winter there were literally thousands. At the time of writing, just a few hundred are roosting, but that can change on a wind as arrivals from Europe turn up when the weather changes. Anyway, reader Alison waved as she passed the pond on her dog walk. I later heard that she’d seen a scuffle between a Kestrel and a Barn Owl close to the Fen Bridge. Typical, I thought, for me to miss the avian action.

Barn Owl over a barn at Rampton

Anyway, there are quite a few barn owls to be seen on the outskirts of the village. These dusk hunters of silent flight will range along the Cottenham Lode (a fenland drain), across rough fields, and alongside roads. Often you will see a ghostly Barn Owl sidle up alongside hoping to home in on voles and other small rodents turfed out of the undergrowth by the rumbling of tires, even on the fresh tarmac of Beach Road.

There are other owls around; while videoing a starling murmuration over Rampton, I could see a Barn Owl in the field, but could hear a little owl in the hedge in which the starlings were hoping to roost. There was little chance that they would settle until the owls had departed, which eventually they did. The whole point of the murmuration, aside from the socialising, is to reduce the risk to the individual bird of being picked off by a bird of prey, such as a peregrine falcon, or perhaps an owl. The Little Owl is not a native species, it was introduced to the British Isles in the nineteenth century.

Rescued Tawny Owl at Fen Edge Festival 2019

Meanwhile, there are places around the village, such as The Green where there are tawny owls to be heard, and if you’re very lucky and keen-eyed, perhaps even seen. Like the Barn Owl the Tawny Owl has very dark eyes, which help it see even in low light, and coupled with its excellent directional hearing make it a mean night hunter. Tawnies pair up from about the age of one year and stick together, monogamously. Famously, their call – the stereotypical “too-wit, woo-ooh” is two birds calling almost in the style of Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald. The female calls “too-wit” and the male responds by wooing her.

There are a few Long-eared Owls across East Anglia and the East Midlands although numbers are greater further north. Some readers may have been lucky to catch a glimpse of a vagrant Snowy Owl on the north Norfolk coast at RSPB Snettisham in March 2018. You have a greater chance of seeing the Short-eared Owl, however. This migratory species flies in from Scandinavia, Russia, Iceland, and we are lucky enough to have a patch of land not too far away where they can be seen hunting at dusk. Last winter, half a dozen or so “shorties” were often seen hunting at NT Burwell Fen and Tubney Fen, which are accessible by road from Burwell or on foot or cycling from Wicken Fen.

One of last winter’s shorties suffered a wing injury, and spent the summer on the Fen; it can still fly well, but presumably it felt that a trip back to the Steppes was not on the cards. As I write, this I have visited the fen twice this winter to see the shorties and reckon that there are four or so present. The numbers may have risen by the time you read this in early February. But, if you are reading it later in the year, beyond March, early April, you will have probably missed the chance to see them until next winter. Birding is very much about chance, timing, weather, and plain-old luck.

TL:DR – In the late autumn, Short-eared Owls often migrate from regions far to the north and reach sites, such as NT Burwell Fen in Cambridgeshire where they will spend the winter, hunting small mammals in scrubby fenland.

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Here’s looking at youA frosty start to the day, clear skies, little wind, would that be perfect weather for hunting Short-eared Owls at NT Burwell Fen, I wondered. Did a few chores, made a coffee, drove the bumpy ride to the reach bridge parking at the back of the fen. Another quick snap of the 2D sculpture there that looks like a rendition of the weirdest “distracted boyfriend” meme ever.

Too early for Shorties at the time I arrived so a short walk along the bank top that parallels Reach Lode. Lots of waterfowl and water birds and the water, as you’d expect (Mallard, Shoveller, Coot, Wigeon, Shelduck, Black-headed Gull, Cormorants, usual feathery fodder). A few large flocks spooked every now and then by a couple Marsh Harriers.

A tramp back to the bridge and then a walk across to our usual owl-spotting spot in the middle of the Fen. Hard-standing fossil of an old farm, with a drainage ditch and fencing to hem in the cattle and the Konik ponies, the deer don’t care about fences, of course.

Chatted to a couple who put me to shame with their endurance, my having arrived at about 12h15, they’d already been there more than four hours. They’d seen a single Barn Owl but no early morning shorties. The misidentified some Stonechats as Reed Bunts and endless contradicted by spartan field knowledge of the Shorties that spend the winters on this Fen. I told them that they’d be “up” no sooner than about an hour before sunset, they were insistent that people “on Facebook” had photographed them for weeks at all times of day. It wasn’t to be. So, with ever-patient labrador in tow, we all of us ended up snapping the cattle to pass the time.

I also got a bizarre shot of some ghost Mallard where I’d accidentally put my camera into HDR mode, which never works well with moving subjects as the camera is programmed to take three bracketed shots quickly, but not instantaneously. One is exposed for the blacks, one the highlights, and one for the mid-tones. The camera combines all three and discards areas that are over or underexposed to create the high dynamic range of the final photo, usually.

The quality of light was lovely, the only “clouds” in tke sky were the loop-de-loop smoke trails of a wannabe Biggles, the only sound aside from his propellor a distant pheasant shoot I’d passed on the bumpy ride in that was still ongoing. Fowl play, you might say.

No Shorties yet, but lots of cameras on tripods pointed at the scrub expectantly. Word on the Fen was that there were five over-wintering here. We’d seen three, possibly four, on our last visit, but the light had been low and the photo quality similar. Today it would be different, just needed the owls to show.

Fairly sure I was first to spot the first, at 15h08, which true to my prediction was an hour before sunset, give or take ten minutes. So, here it is, first of probably five individual Short-eared Owls that I’d seen on the Fen by the time I left, just after sunset.

There are five on the Fen, I cannot be sure if I saw all five, maybe just four of them, but definitely four. Two tussled with a Marsh Harrier and I saw a final one as I headed for the Sun.

The sun had almost gone when I looked back over the Fen after a chat with an old birder who didn’t seem to need binoculars nor ‘scope, and definitely didn’t have a camera. The light was fading fast and the resulting photo was at high ISO and so is very noisy, but it’s a record, so there.