Nature tends to hum with a predictable rhythm that changes only with the season.
I know that during spring and summer, for example, when dusk begins to fall, that the local micro bats will take to the sky, flitting and looping as they snatch at moths unlucky enough to get too close. I know that around 7pm, or earlier on hot days, the possums that live in our roof will begin scratching and stretching and readying themselves before noisily clomping across the back of our tin roof, leaping off and into the same tree and out into the world to begin their night. And I love that I know all these things and as a result have a window into the lives of the creatures that live with us.
But, let me tell you, there’s nothing that gets the blood pumping more than having a very unexpected encounter with a very special visitor like a Powerful Owl. I’ve won the neighbourhood lottery and live surrounded by lovely people who happen to love the local wildlife as much as I do.
I received a text from a neighbour letting me know that there was a beautiful Powerful Owl in our gum tree. This was a bit of a shock for a couple of reasons. Firstly, these birds are classed as vulnerable in NSW, which means they’re at high risk of extinction in the medium-term future, and secondly we have not heard so much as one call for ages – that classic, somewhat mournful ‘hooo, hooo’ from the owls that fly in and out of our area.
I got a brief glimpse of the P’Owl before it spread its enormous wings and headed out to hunt for Ringtail Possums and other tree-dwelling critters. By the next morning, I’d pretty much put it out of my mind and instead was distracted by some very focused Kookaburras who were quickly joined by a couple of Currawongs, all calling simultaneously and flying down at something closer to the ground.
It doesn’t matter how quiet I try to be, I always just end up a mess of crunching leaves and snapping twigs and so, just as I angled my body so that I could follow the gaze of the furious kookas, I scared something very large out of the foliage. I watched as it flew low, hotly pursued by the shrieking birds and into one of my neighbours’ yards. It was the same owl from the previous night!
We ended up spending maybe 20 minutes in the presence of this incredible creature, its one yellow eye staring down at us once the kookaburras were satisfied that it was no longer a problem and ceased their relentless dive-bombing.
I sent a message to the people at the Powerful Owl Project who advised that this particular owl, a male, is a very well-known local who has been sporting the injury to its eye for about 18 months and who, along with its partner, is known to be particularly quiet. Look at that amazing face. So, yes, I love being a part of the daily lives of so many beautiful creatures, but there’s always room for special visitors!