The disappointment soon faded once the frantic nesting activity of the swallows began. Within days of discovering they had found their way into the stable it was obvious there were young in the hurriedly constructed nest. Over the next couple of weeks the changes were rapid.
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| 26th June |
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| 29th June |
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| 6th July - getting a little overcrowded |
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12th July - ready to go
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The speed of development of the youngsters was impressive but not nearly as impressive as their flying ability. I have always marvelled at the aerobatic displays of adult swallows but standing in a stable no more than 4 metres square watching four or five of them circling me at breath-taking speed gave me a whole new level of appreciation. I only realised I had been holding my breath once the last of them had hurtled out of the door.
The parents returned shortly afterwards and raised a second brood, inexplicably in the 12 year old nest nearby rather than the new one. All swallows had gone by the middle of September but the month ended with a cruel twist.
I was resigned to a long slow descent into the short days of winter with only the occasional boost of a winter visitor or the sight of an owl hunting over frosty fields to raise my spirits. Thoughts of nesting birds had all but gone - until I wandered down to the garage.
It was the morning of the last Saturday of the month. On the ground, directly beneath the owl box, was a dead owl chick.It had most of its adult plumage but still carried a considerable amount of down and was clearly a good two weeks or more from being fully fledged. I put it to one side to show the family later and continued with my weekend jobs. Further evidence later that day confirmed that I had been mistaken to assume that an empty nest in June meant there would be no owl family this year. Hopping across the garden was another owlet, also out of the nest too early but very much alive. It wasn't difficult to corner and capture and once it was safely in the cat's carrying case I had to make a decision. Usually young barn owls should be returned to the nest as soon as possible but as this one was almost as thin and under-nourished as the dead one it seemed that the parents had abandoned them or were unable to feed them for some reason. The only solution would be to find someone who could hand rear it.
A rescue centre was located in Lincoln and my Saturday evening was taken up with driving a fragile animal nearly 40 miles expecting all the way that it would not survive the journey. It did but later that evening there was yet more drama. Another owlet was cowering in the corner of the garage when I arrived home and it too was placed in the cat box, though it looked more dead than alive. Just as I was deciding what to do with it my wife spotted yet another one up on the roof beams and suddenly one of the parents swooped in clutching a vole. If the parents were still bringing food then the best place for the youngsters was near the nest box so I carefully returned the one in the cat box to the garage roof and went to bed, wondering if I had made the correct decision to take one to the animal hospital. I had. The next morning there were two dead owlets on the ground under the owl box. So far three out of the unlikely brood of four had died.
A few days later yet another owlet was seen refining its flying skills alongside one of its parents and within a week these had disappeared - I will never know if this fifth one made it. A phone call from the animal hospital in Lincoln provided one crumb of comfort as the rescued owl was thriving and ready for a carefully managed release into the wild. Sadly, recent inspections of the owl box have led me to the conclusion that our owl box is no longer needed but, much as we will miss our neighbours, we should at least be spared another traumatic autumn.
The parents returned shortly afterwards and raised a second brood, inexplicably in the 12 year old nest nearby rather than the new one. All swallows had gone by the middle of September but the month ended with a cruel twist.
I was resigned to a long slow descent into the short days of winter with only the occasional boost of a winter visitor or the sight of an owl hunting over frosty fields to raise my spirits. Thoughts of nesting birds had all but gone - until I wandered down to the garage.
It was the morning of the last Saturday of the month. On the ground, directly beneath the owl box, was a dead owl chick.It had most of its adult plumage but still carried a considerable amount of down and was clearly a good two weeks or more from being fully fledged. I put it to one side to show the family later and continued with my weekend jobs. Further evidence later that day confirmed that I had been mistaken to assume that an empty nest in June meant there would be no owl family this year. Hopping across the garden was another owlet, also out of the nest too early but very much alive. It wasn't difficult to corner and capture and once it was safely in the cat's carrying case I had to make a decision. Usually young barn owls should be returned to the nest as soon as possible but as this one was almost as thin and under-nourished as the dead one it seemed that the parents had abandoned them or were unable to feed them for some reason. The only solution would be to find someone who could hand rear it.
A rescue centre was located in Lincoln and my Saturday evening was taken up with driving a fragile animal nearly 40 miles expecting all the way that it would not survive the journey. It did but later that evening there was yet more drama. Another owlet was cowering in the corner of the garage when I arrived home and it too was placed in the cat box, though it looked more dead than alive. Just as I was deciding what to do with it my wife spotted yet another one up on the roof beams and suddenly one of the parents swooped in clutching a vole. If the parents were still bringing food then the best place for the youngsters was near the nest box so I carefully returned the one in the cat box to the garage roof and went to bed, wondering if I had made the correct decision to take one to the animal hospital. I had. The next morning there were two dead owlets on the ground under the owl box. So far three out of the unlikely brood of four had died.
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| The three dead owlets - note the different levels of development |
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