The New Beginnings

Journaling this year’s young birds’ growth.

On a hot day in June I’m sat in the middle of a grassy field surrounded by an orchestra of insects forever tuning their instruments. Perhaps encouraged by such cacophony, a complete novice seems to be joining in occasionally. The owner of the instantly recognisable ‘jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj’ sounds is none other than a little owlet begging for food.

I must confess I haven’t yet located exactly where it is though. So I carefully point my binoculars to roughly where the sound is coming from in order to study each hollow in the trees I can see within the vicinity for any signs.

There, through the circle viewing frame, I spot a greyish fluffy bird scurrying back inside one of the hollows I was monitoring.

I gingerly re-position my tripod so as not to scare the bird, pointing the lens towards the opening in the tree and wait.

Ten minutes or so later, overcome either by hunger or curiosity, the same ball of fluff peeks from the edge of the nest entrance to look at me with a set of unmistakable trademark beady yellow eyes focused on me.

Bobbing its head up and down, and circling it round and round, it surely took time to suss me out.

I try to be careful so as not to stare directly at the bird or make any sudden movement, and eventually the bird has become a little cocky and begged for food posing for the camera like this.

‘I’m hungry and I have no shame in letting it known.’

A scene like this gets repeated every year but never fails to fascinate me.

It might be the clumsiness of every move the chicks try for the first time or the general grumpiness that never escapes their appearance.

But it must be their fresh take on life that inspires me the most - to this typical modern-age brain loaded with so much useless information but so few experiences, their pure inquisitiveness and openness to experience everything is life-affirming.

For instance, I was lucky enough to witness a young little owl looking totally captivated by the butterfly it saw, I suspect, for the first time. The photographer in me immediately thought ‘He’ll pounce on it.’ But instead, it just looked on seemingly mesmerised by the synchronised movement of the butterfly’s wings.

Quite contrary to my expectation, the little owlet simply admired the butterfly.

As any naturalist would do, I try to resist the temptation to humanise wild animals when confronted with human-like behaviours. However in this young bird’s case, its pureness and curiosity simply startled me, even went towards restoring my jaded trust in humanity. Even if it was just trying to exercise its ocular focusing mechanism, it was fascinating to note that wild birds aren’t just motivated by hunger alone. Needless to say, this was one of those moments when I had to eat my humble pie.

Young birds, most invariably after leaving the nest, let you in on their vulnerability more often as they are far less guarded than adults. I couldn’t believe my eyes when the same little owlet started dozing off in the this position for second day in a row! Don't you think it almost looks like a potoo?! I had seen little owlets before but not sleeping lying on their stomach. Apparently they do so as their head is still too heavy for them to support to sleep upright.

A remarkable resemblance to a nightjar, and potoo!?

Unbelievably I was lucky enough to witness a different little owlet do the same when I happened to be recording it. Watch this.

I know I shouldn’t make fun of it, but the way the owlet almost collapses into that position is so overly dramatic and carries the air of a seasoned stage actor.

Fascinating as these maybe, the highlight of the season is catching a little owlet in the rain. I knew that owls don’t have waterproof feathers therefore try to avoid getting wet. So when we were caught in the shower while filming, I immediately expected the owlet to escape to somewhere dry. But unexpectedly the owlet stayed in the same place, lowered itself almost into a horizontal position spreading its wings exposing the back to the falling rain almost. Whether this is just a instinctive reaction to the rain (as we humans try to cover our heads with hands in the rain), or trying to wash off any parasite or dirt on its feathers, I don’t know. Nonetheless it was very intriguing to watch and well worth getting wet in the rain!

I’m not one who enjoys watching those ‘reaction videos’ you find on YouTube.

But spending time with those owlets has had similar vicarious effect, I thought. As I watched them see something for the first time and become entranced, I was experiencing it myself through their eyes, and as they made mistakes I felt as though I made the same mistakes, too. Not only entertaining to watch, it was deeply liberating for me as the years of working as a professional has stiffened me up about making mistakes. I became fearful of getting it wrong, diverting away from the common sense, walking off the well-trodden paths.

By sharing their intimate moments of their young journeys that have just begun, these fluffy creatures gave me a little courage to sidetrack, embrace being clumsy, make mistakes and take a chance.

‘You’re not exactly young or fresh, but at least you can try being clumsy.’ I almost hear them hoot.