Snowy Owls and a Day to Remember

     It was a cold day when we set out, classic in its wintriness. The sun was piercingly bright, there was enough of a breeze to sting your face gently, and the world was white.

      Buoyed in spirit and fortified with a mug of hot coffee, we set out to roam the countryside from the safety of our car, without a COVID care in the world.

     Our quest was for Snowy Owls (Bubo scandiacus) and other raptorial birds and we succeeded admirably. There were several Red-tailed Hawks (Buteo jamaicensis), more Rough-legged Buzzards (Buteo lagopus) than some people see in a lifetime, and a lone Cooper's Hawk (Accipiter cooperii) well camouflaged in a dense tangle of bushes, waiting for an unsuspecting passerine to come by and sate its hunger.

     Our first encounter with a Snowy Owl, one of three exquisite males we would see that day, was the stuff of dreams. We were witnesses, participants almost,  into nature's vitality played out before our eyes. Ironically we have no pictures to share of this drama; we could hardly take our eyes off it, let alone worry about fiddling with a camera.

     The Snowy Owl had captured prey, and two Common Ravens (Corvus corax) were determined to steal it from him. By acting in unison and tormenting the owl they finally drove it off, leaving its hard-won meal behind. One raven pursued the owl, croaking its victory call, as it drove it far from sight, while the second had already pounced on the spoils of battle. As this was taking place, an adult Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) cruised overhead, contemplating displacing the ravens perhaps, but thought better of it, and carried on its way. Past tussles with ravens might have influenced its decision!

     As if to cap the sequence with a grand finale, a beautifully patterned dark morph Rough-legged Buzzard arrived on the scene, no doubt wishing to filch a little food for itself, but the ravens were having none of it, and the rough-leg moved on.

     Outclassed in bulk, strength and fighting equipment, the Common Ravens won the day with intelligence and cooperation. Surely that lesson still needs to be learned by humans.

     A Snowy Owl of either sex, young or old, is magnificent, but is anything quite as sublime as an adult male?

     By using the car as a blind, and advancing very, very slowly, we parked within fifteen metres, perhaps less, of this individual, without ever disturbing it.

     It spent a good deal of its time preening, and you can see its feathered feet (an adaptation against the cold) in the following picture.

     Here it is getting ready to stretch.

     It stretched quite frequently, extending wing and leg on each side of its body. We were unsure whether this was part of the preening process, or a means of maintaining flexibility. Whichever was the case, it was a wonderful sight to see.

     After about forty-five minutes we got ready to depart and bade our friend farewell.

     We drove away slowly, reluctant to leave, and glanced back several times as the owl faded into the distance.

     Mere minutes later we saw two male Snowy Owls flying together, one having come in from the direction we had travelled, so we assumed that it was "our" owl.

How amazing it was to see two of these archetypal birds of the north hunting in unison, scouring the fields for rodents. Territoriality it appears, is suspended outside the breeding season, and when food is plentiful.

     And - as a final reward we concluded - we spotted a large female perched in a tree near to a farm house.

     In life there are days to remember. This was certainly one of them.