In Which We Rescue A Baby Tawny Owl

Everyone's been home this weekend so it's been a fairly non-stop couple of days, topped off last night with a pub supper.

On the way back we experienced a moment of existential crisis (actually, it wasn't existential at all- for a second it was frighteningly real) when an oncoming car suddenly swerved deliberately into our path. M braked, the car swerved back onto its side of the road, and a second later I realised why it had swerved- there was a pigeon in the road.

At least I thought it was a pigeon. 

We stopped and I leapt out to move it off the road, then discovered it was a baby Tawny Owl (an owlet). 

I've had one or two Close Encounters with owls over the years. They are not called "wise" for nothing. Under the unblinking scrutiny of an owl you feel reduced to a fairly inconsequential being, wondering at your own temerity at even daring to look directly at them.

The babies are no different in this regard. This little one fixed those extraordinary round eyes on me and tapped his beak in warning as I approached and opened his wings to flap at me. All good signs, I thought, hopefully I'll be able to pick him up and pop him back in the woods over the fence and mummy or daddy will come back and look after him.

Then I realised he'd been hit. There was fresh blood coming out of his beak.


My default position with any wild creature is always to move it away from immediate danger and then leave it be, because wild things belong in the wild and are almost always better off that way. Indeed it is illegal to remove them. But this was an injured baby, dusk was approaching with all that that means in terms of predators, and what's more he was small and fluffy and not yet fully fledged and, more importantly, there was no sign whatsoever of his parents.

I picked him up and couldn't feel anything broken, but leaving him in that condition was out of the question, so we took him home and I rang my friend Jill who is a Wildlife Rescue Wonder Lady to ask her advice.

You can't leave him out like that, she confirmed. Bring him over, I've another baby Tawny here, they can keep each other company.

So after the children had gently stroked his furry head, and he had fallen asleep in my hands all soft and warm and comfortable, M drove me and the Tawny Wol over to Jill's place. When we were nearly there he woke up, stretched, flapped his wings and hopped up onto the dashboard. The bleeding had stopped, and when I dabbed at his beak to clean him up a bit, he grabbed the tissue. He then did a poo on me and decided to flutter over to land on M's knees. He seemed utterly unperturbed by us and behaved, as all owls do, as if this was his kingdom and we there merely to serve (which to be honest is how I felt) :o)

All Good Signs, I thought, grinning at the sight of M, in all likelihood the only husband in England to be calmly driving along a country lane at dusk with a wild owl sitting on his knee :o)

I retrieved Bop (as we decided to call him) and discovered that Owls have extraordinarily sharp talons and a Very Strong Grip. He was reluctant to let go of my finger but I managed to persuade him to sit on my lap the remainder of the way instead, which he did, keeping his enormous eyes trained on me the entire time. I braved out the scrutiny and smiled down at him, explaining that we were taking him to a lady who would make him better and look after him until he was big enough to go out into the woods and look after himself. 

Jill has a wealth of experience rehabilitating wild creatures, she's a country woman through and through- straightforward, no-nonsense, more at home with animals than people and what's more she has a Magic Touch- wild things respond to her in a way they don't to other people. I met her several years ago when L and I found a brand new hatchling on the verge by school. A crowd of excitable mothers and children were gathered round exclaiming and pointing at the baby but no one was actually doing anything to help it. 

I picked it up (impatient with the useless chattering of the watching people) while L looked for the nest, but we couldn't find it, so we took Peep (as L christened the baby) home, L holding her while I drove. I rang Jill who advised me to give her some rehdydrating salts in water and some tiny sections of softened meal worms, then tuck her up in the airing cupboard on a hot water bottle wrapped in a towel for the night and if she survived the night to bring her over in the morning. At that age they need feeding every 15-30 mins during the day, something I couldn't do.

With such a brand new baby none of us expected her to survive so it was with some astonishment that I was woken at 4am the next morning by a loud and insistent peeping coming from the airing cupboard.

We drove Peep over to Jill and both shook our heads over her and thought it still unlikely she would survive, young as she was, but to our amazement she did and eight days later we returned to see her and discovered she was a sparrow.

A few days on from that and she was fully feathered and living outside in a cage, from which she fledged successfully to be a proper Wild Bird.

So I know Jill is a miracle worker with a magic touch and I wouldn't trust Bop to anyone else.

We arrived at Jill's last night in one piece and she gathered him up in a very professional owl-handling manner, checked him over and declared nothing broken (phew). After studying his beak for a moment we worked out where the blood was coming from- the tip of his top beak was broken, so I think he was clipped by a car seconds before we found him. He would have died if we hadn't intervened, not least because he was sitting in the road close to a bend and wasn't moving. He settled down in Jill's hands enjoying being smoothed and while we caught up he fell fast asleep :o)

We left him looking quite happy about to be fed a mouse or two and drove home. I will ring her later today to see how he passed the night but we were both hopeful that short of internal injuries, he would be OK.
 

I am wondering (of course) whether my diary is clear enough in the next fortnight or so for me to raise him here. I'll chat it over with Jill and make a decision based on her advice. It may be that one move is enough and he's better off staying put with her. The advantage to him being here (apart from the obvious one of us having a beautiful owl to look after until he fledges properly) is that he'd be released close to where he was born. I'm not sure if that makes much difference with owls.

Hope you all enjoyed that :o)

CT.

A Treasure Of The Woods: The Rare Marsh Fritillary & More Dukes....

I'm aware I use the words 'extremely rare' and 'severely threatened' a lot in relation to flutters. I don't use them lightly- many species are in real trouble, and I have another one to show you today.

The Marsh Fritillary is found in only a small number of sites, mainly in the west of the UK and a few locations in Ireland. It has very precise habitat requirements: damp, tussocky grassland subjected to low-intensity grazing and plenty of the larval foodplant which is devil's-bit scabious. The wrong management techniques, habitat loss and the butterfly's susceptibility to parasites make this species especially vulnerable to local colony extinction. A thriving colony with thousands of adults can become extinct within a handful of years.

I have long wanted to see them. They belong to this time of the year and only fly for a few short weeks so you can blink and miss them. With this is mind I was prepared to travel for them.

BUT.

I got talking to a friend on Tuesday who is a butterfly expert (not the brilliant Butterfly Wizard, but another Clever Man whom I shall call the Butterfly Magician for his ability to conjure flutters apparently out of thin air. He is quite something to go out walking with) and he took me to a remote woodland where a colony of these beautiful creatures exists. Another friend who works for the National Trust came too, both of us Rather Excitable at the thought of seeing this rare butterfly.

It was cool and cloudy, so not great flutter weather and the Marshes weren't out (it is early in the season for them yet), but we did see a very rare moth, an Argent & Sable, which was a first for me, and Pearl Bordered and Small Pearl Bordered Fritillaries which are very difficult to tell apart - but I am learning - as well as some Speckled Yellow moths :o)

Anyhoo, the Butterfly Magician had essays to mark the following day so Dave (Butterfly Wizard) and I decided to go back for another look armed with a better forecast. And guess what we found in a small woodland clearing....

Are these not beautiful things?

I have, as always, gone overboard on the photos, but you all know me well enough by now to expect that, right?

I wanted to get a photo of the underwing because they are rather glorious too. Dave said ooh, that's hard and wandered off to look for Sables while I Sat Down with one of the Marshes. We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before I plucked up courage to respectfully ask whether it might just be possible for a closed-wing moment? Please? 

He thought about it for a moment, then decided to oblige.... 
 

Lovely. No?


Here's a Pearl Bordered Fritillary for you to enjoy too. Also wonderful butterflies and a special sight in their own right, they are one of our most rapidly declining species thanks to a cessation in coppicing. The Small Pearl Bordered is only really distinguishable by the chevrons at the base of the wing which are joined up in the Small, but not (as you can see below) in the Pearl. They also have more silver on the underwing. Confusing, eh?

Already grinning substantially from these close encounters with such rare and beautiful species, my ego took another boost when a Speckled Yellow landed right at my feet and remained perfectly still for a piccy (they having eluded Dave all morning :o) )...

Slightly Drunk from everything that we had seen, we wandered back through the woods which were looking beautiful in the sunlight with lots of oaks and beech and ancient wood banks....

We kept an eye out for any other flutters that might be about and found a freshly emerged Comma....

And a Speckled Wood...

Wood Spurge was looking a lovely fresh green colour...

I left Dave looking for Argent & Sables and headed off to college to walk the transect there. Half way round I was startled to see a Mother Shipton moth nectaring on some daisies. They're called Mother Shipton after the Tudor Prophetess of that name who lived in the ancient forest of Knaresborough in Yorkshire and was said to have been born in a Cave there in 1488. The cave bares her name and claims to be England's oldest tourist attraction. She is said to have foretold the end of the monasteries, the rise of the printing press and the demise of Thomas Cromwell, amongst other things. The reason the moth has her name is the hook-nosed profile of the old lady which is visible on its wing. Can you see it?

I've only ever seen one Mother Shipton before, so this was a real and unexpected treat. Coming on top of the Marsh Frits and the Pearl Bordereds I was already beaming from ear to ear when I found a Small Blue on the next daisy along from Old Ma Shipton and that increased my grinning as it was way off it's normal range on the transect and near some clearing work which was done over the winter- the flutters all love it there as the open ground is warm but wind-free as it's sheltered by trees...

Then there was a Green Veined White...Daises are clearly The Flower Of The Month, eh?

But the real piece de resistance was waiting for me where the wood comes out into chalk grassland. He flew over my shoulder right in front of my nose and landed on some bramble leaves on the other side of the path.

You all know who this is, right? I've been banging on about them for the last couple of weeks....

It's only a Duke of Burgundy! A Duke! Of all things! And on our transect! We don't have Dukes at college (well, not yet anyway). I nearly fell over. I really didn't trust the evidence of my eyes so I got the picture and emailed it to Dr H who oversees all the flutter stuff for this area and has been working on the Dukes On The Edge project for the last three years. Needless to say he was really chuffed, because it might, it just might, be evidence of natural colonisation, and as you all know, this flutter is teetering right on the brink of extinction and needs all the help it can get.

Incidentally, while I'm in Boasting Mode I'll share with you something else of Magical Proportions that happened to me this week. Who is this little flutter sitting on my finger....?

Only The Duchess herself :o) She sat there so long I had to ease her on to a leaf so I could go looking for (among other things) glow worms. We found those too...

glow worm larva

Anyway, back to the transect...

I carried on, grinning like an idiot and totally incapable of rational thought. But Nature hadn't done with me yet. A little further along was this beautiful Longhorn Beetle Agapanthia villosovirdescens. More common in the east and central UK, this is another rarity for Hampshire so it's also a Good Record...

It is fair to say the remainder of the transect passed in something of a blur, although I did record Green Hairstreaks, Orange Tips and more Small Blues..

When I got home (still grinning and with cheek-ache by that point) I had another Wonderful Surprise...

Do you remember the large pupa I have been looking after all winter? I thought initially it was a Large Yellow Underwing moth, then realised that it couldn't be because the timing was wrong....

It's been in the butterfly case by the front door, sheltered from wind and rain and sunlight along with four others that have been dug up by accident over the winter. Never re-bury pupae because they'll suffocate, instead, put them in a pot with something the newly emerged insect can climb up such as a twig. Better still get a small pop-up zip-fronted mesh butterfly cage (not expensive - £10 or so) and put it somewhere safe and sheltered from rain and direct sunlight- a porch is perfect. Don't bring them indoors because light and temperature are their gauge for hatching out (eclosing) and if they come too soon they won't survive. They don't need spraying with water because the atmosphere hydrates them naturally, and they can survive frosts and very cold weather. All you do is leave them be, checking on them once a day in case anything has emerged and then when it does, gently tip the moth (if that's what it is) into a plant pot or vegetation where it's safe from birds- as soon as night falls it will sort itself out and fly away. Use a paint brush or a piece of paper to move them- avoid touching if you can because the scales on their wings that help them fly get damaged by human hands. Also, their legs are delicate and their feet stick easily to things, making them prone to damage, including coming off.

I checked the pupa in the morning, nothing doing, but look who was waiting for me when I got back...

A beautiful and perfect Buff Tip moth :o) Isn't it nice to know who was in there all winter long? I am soooo relieved he/ she survived and emerged Fine and Dandy.

And here is the empty pupa case...They create them underground in earthen cells. Clever Old Things.

 

Phew! It's been Quite A Week here for wildlife, one way or another :o)

I'll leave you with a photo of my friend Ruth's Common Pipistrelle bat that she is nursing back to health after a cat got it. Sadly, the damage to the wing is too great for a full mending and this little chap won't ever be able to fly again. As bats live for 25/ 30 years, Ruth is set to be Bat Mummy to this little one for Quite Some Time to come. I should add that she is a licensed bat handler as they are a protected species and shouldn't be handled otherwise.

Badger Watch next week....

Wishing you all a peaceful weekend, half term and bank hols (if you're reading this in the UK).

CT :o)

Blue-Tailed Damselfly Rescue, Baking And Some Exciting News

I've been running about like a Blue Arsed Fly today, giving the house a Jolly Good Clean (it doesn't happen often) while Poppy chased the hoover and Ted chased Poppy, and then making a fish pie, chocolate mousse and hazelnut shortbread for supper as one of M's work colleagues is coming over.

The floors look strange without their usual accompaniment of bits of mud and vegetation and the spiders all think I've gone completely mad hoovering up their webs from the walls.

I think I've earnt a packet of crisps (which I am now eating) and a G&T (which I am saving for later, only I expect M's colleague won't want any booze as she's driving and then I'll end up looking like an alcoholic. As usual).

Here's the grub....

Hazelnut Shortbread

Rhubarb Fool made at the weekend by M. My contribution was to put it in nice bowls instead of an old ice cream carton! Oh, and the mint :o)

Whipped double cream for chocolate mousse

Melted chocolate added to the cream

Fish Pie with boiled eggs and sweet potatoes :o)

I feel justified eating the crisps because I've been doing a fair bit of running recently. I can tell this is working because a) I can now whizz up hills on buttocks of steel, b) do 20 lunges round the garden without collapsing at the end and having to slide down the banisters for the next three days because using stairs like a normal person is impossible with seized leg muscles, and c) I got beeped at when crossing the road the other day. 

To be precise, I got beeped at, leered at and propositioned in what I can only assume was a moment of testosterone-fueled blindness by the four male occupants of the car. This cheered me up no end- not because it's flattering to be beeped at, but because I find it enormously amusing to imagine the horror of said young chaps when they get close enough to realise that the creature they'd just propositioned wasn't the fit young thing they'd imagined from half a mile away, but a forty-something mother of three, pink-faced and out of breath from sprinting the last half mile home :o)

After all the baking I went into the garden to Check On Progress. Pop came with me as she always does (apparently, she started howling when I went out early on Sat morning- I didn't realise she did that, very touching).....

.....and we found a Blue-Tailed Damselfly stuck in the greenhouse. I put a hand up to rescue him and was Quite Surprised when he turned round, got on my finger and sat there waiting to be saved. Normally they head-butt the panes of glass in a frantic effort to escape. Not only did he come to my hand, but he remained on it while I took several piccies. In the end, I had to manoeuvre him onto the kingcups next the pond so I could get on with other things :o)

I hope you can see the amazing blue/ violet colours he has and the little blue dots above his eyes?

The flowers are all Coming Along Nicely. Incidentally, if anyone wants any Nicotiana or Cosmos seedlings you are Most Welcome -I have hundreds and no-where to put them all :o)

I nearly ended the post without telling you about the Exciting News! I applied for a little teaching type job at college recently and got a phone call today to say I'd been short-listed for an interview! It will be my first proper job interview in twenty years! Yikes! Finger's crossed. The interview's at the start of June so here's hoping :o) Maybe that's a Good Enough reason for a pre-dinner Gin, eh?

I'll leave you with a pic of Teddy sunbathing contentedly by the back door.....
 

...and wish you all a Peaceful Evening.

CT x