It’s easy to explain why birders find owls such as fascinating group: no other family of birds presents such a challenge to the observer. Of course, the great majority are strictly nocturnal, while most are also shy and secretive. Many are to be found in environments that we humans find challenging: tropical rainforests, boreal forests, Arctic tundra. Even the common species provide a challenge for the observer. Tawny Owls, for example, are widespread throughout Europe, but though their nocturnal hooting frequently betrays their presence, their strictly nocturnal habits ensure that they are rarely seen.
But when you do finally see an owl, that encounter is likely to live long in the memory. I have vivid recollections of a Great Grey Owl, hunting in a May snowstorm in Arctic Finland; of a Hawk Owl chasing indignant Black Woodpeckers in a Swedish forest; of a Pel’s Fishing Owl, preening its soaked feathers in a giant yellow fever tree on the banks of lazy African river; of an extraordinary Spot-bellied Eagle Owl in a steaming Indian jungle, entrancing me with its fabulous long ear tufts and a face that looked like an old professor. It was a pair of Spectacled Owls that I remember most from a trip to Costa Rica, not the much easier-to-see Resplendent Quetzals.
Here several of our regular contributors present their Christmas dozen, twelve owls that they know and admire. With over 250 species of owls in the world, this is a family that we’re likely to come back to (David Tomlinson).
Northern Saw-Whet Owl
Photo from Wikimedia Commons
If you are looking for adorable in a species, you have it in the Northern Saw-Whet Owl. These little owls roost low in cedars and other evergreens. Many times, when I have come upon this owl, it opens its eyes wide but otherwise is very calm in my presence.
My favorite Saw-Whet memory is when my husband and I were invited to see them being banded. We followed the bander and saw him pull a female Saw-Whet out of the mist net. She had been attracted by the calls he had been playing. He brought her into his banding station to be weighed, measured, aged, and sexed. She was calm the whole time and checked us all out. The bander showed a young boy how to hold and release her on the ground. He was careful because those tiny talons are sharp. She paused for a moment, looked at us again, and then took off. What an amazing evening! (Leslie Kinrys).
Northern Hawk Owl
Excluding the barn owls, there are currently reckoned to be 234 species of owls in the world. Most are shy, nocturnal, and hard to see, which makes the Northern Hawk Owl something of an exception. It’s diurnal, generally fearless of man, and is about as un-owl-like as it’s possible for an owl to be, making it for me the rock star of a fascinating family.
Identifying Surnia ulula is simple. It has a flat-topped head and a small facial disc, while its large wings taper to a point – most owls have rounded wings. And while owls typically have short tails, the Hawk Owl’s is uncharacteristically long. What you can’t see it that its plumage is also more compact than other owls, and the sound-deadening filaments at the feather tips, typical of almost all owls, are poorly developed.
If you are lucky enough to be in a Hawk Owl’s territory, then finding the bird is rarely a problem, for they like exposed perches at tops of trees, bushes, or even fence posts. Here they sit, looking more like a falcon than an owl, often with the tail cocked at an angle. When it comes to hunting, think of shrike rather than owl, for they use their lofty vantage points as look-out posts, swooping down on their prey. Voles are their favorites, but they will take birds up the size of a Willow Grouse.
My first encounter with a Hawk Owl was in Southern Finland in January. The owl had taken up residence close to the home of a birdwatcher, who had agreed to show it to me. He was certain we would see it, explaining that it would come to us, rather than the other way round. We arrived at an extensive snow-covered field, fringed by distant spruce trees. My friend produced a white mouse, which he released onto the snow. Within seconds the owl was arrowing across the field towards us. It grabbed the unfortunate mouse just feet from us, before departing with its lunch. Stunning, but I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the mouse (David Tomlinson).
Short-eared Owl
The Short-eared Owl and I go way back to the point it was the first owl I ever saw. I have seen a single owl hunting on the Frisian Island of Schiermonnikoog, I have had a Short-eared Owl watching my every step in the Lezírias de Vila Franca de Xira while she circled overhead, eyeing me suspiciously. In the same Lezírias, after having witnessed tens of thousands of Northern Shovelers in a rice field, my son and I saw 8 owls on some freshly plowed land, each on their own lump of clay. He thought that was normal, even a bit disappointing after the multitude of ducks…
The Short-eared Owl is the ultimate owl of Christmas – the biggest chance of spotting them is in wintertime when days are short and temperatures low. It’s also an owl that is wonderfully accommodating, for it hunts during the day in wide open spaces without any of that nighttime stealth sneakiness of other owls (Peter Pennig).
Sokotra Scops Owl
The Socotra Scops Owl, which is only about 15-16 cm long, inhabits semi-deserts and rocky landscapes with scattered bushes and trees on the island of Socotra in the Indian Ocean. The Socotra Scops Owl is endemic only to the island of Socotra. On all my visits to the island of Socotra, I always found this species in palm stands during the day. It is estimated that there are about 1000 pairs on Socotra, with the species being more common in the central and eastern parts of the island (Rolf Nessing).
Barn Owl
I’ve seen one and only one Barn Owl in the wild, but I can close my eyes and remember every detail. I had heard about a Barn Owl living in a barn in north Florida, and one afternoon decided it was high time I check it out. Slowly pulling up to the road, we stopped the car and I opened my door, fiddling with a camera setting. In fact, I was still fiddling as I began to stride towards the barn door – which almost led to me missing the bird altogether. I had just barely lifted my head up when a whoosh of white erupted from the open door of the structure and took to the skies, making one long arc to check me out before gliding off over the trees. Somehow I didn’t realize how big Barn Owls are until I saw one for myself. However, I felt terrible that I might have accidentally spooked this magnificent creature, and I never returned to see it again.
According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology: “American Barn Owls live in open habitats, including grasslands, deserts, marshes, agricultural fields, strips of forest, woodlots, ranchlands, brushy fields, and suburbs and cities. They nest in tree cavities, caves, barns, and other buildings” – so it makes sense that I spotted the Barn Owl in a rural area of farm fields and timberlands. They are difficult to survey, but researchers estimate there are more than three million living in the wild. Their numbers are threatened by development, as houses and businesses eat up the wide open spaces they need to survive (Erika Zambello).
Eurasian Eagle-Owl
The Eurasian Eagle-Owl is a beast of a bird and amongst the world’s very largest owls. Its call, a far-carrying low “oo-hu”, is mostly heard in late winter, and the owls will start breeding as early as January in those areas of milder climates within their vast Eurasian range.
In my home area of southwest Germany, Eurasian Eagle-Owls have become reasonably common – as common at least as a species can get with a home range of around 10 to 20 square kilometers. Their haunting drawn-out calls are thus a familiar sound in the dusk of a late afternoon December walk in the vicinity of quarries, where they prefer to build their nests on cliff ledges or beneath small overhanging rocks at the top of scree slopes. In recent years, and since all quarries have been occupied already, Eagle-owls increasingly have entered towns and cities, even going so far as to breed on balconies or large flower boxes. I have indeed heard and occasionally even seen them from my apartment within the city of Heidelberg, and they surely rank as one of my better “yard birds”.
My work as a biologist for the limestone and gravel mining industry for the last 15+ years allowed and allows for frequent encounters with this enormous and deeply impressive species, yet each observation remains special and to this day, the appearance of an Eagle-Owl never fails to amaze and captivate me. They are, truly, a beast of a bird (Jochen Roeder).
Snowy Owl
It’s going to be a good winter for Snowy Owls in North America. Mostly north N.A., but who knows? After a couple of years of few appearances below the Arctic and sub-Arctic, we already have multiple reports of Snowy Owls, one as far south as Maryland. Irruptions happen when there are so many lemmings the previous summer that the Snowy Owl population goes into Baby Boom mode, and healthy young owls head south, hopefully to a beach near me.
This means there will be a lot of happy work for the volunteers of Project SNOWStorm, the nonprofit organization that attaches tiny transmitters to Snowys and then tracks their movements back to the far north. The project was inspired by the Great Snowy Owl Irruption of 2013-14 and has produced a wealth of data on local wintering ground movements and nocturnal hunting activities. You can read more about the individual tagged owls and see their maps on the Project SNOWStorm website. Meanwhile, I’m hoping for experiences like the one captured below in 2012, a mature Snowy Owl roosting on the sands of a Long Island beach, the skyscrapers of New York City in the distance (Donna Schulman).
Great Horned Owl
Kids! One minute they’re little fuzz balls crammed into a tree hollow with their siblings, the next they’re sitting in the middle of the woods on their own, baby fuzz halfway replaced by juvenile body plumage, waiting for Mama to swoop in with the night’s meal. I had watched this Great Horned Owl fledgling since it was about two weeks old and its nest was discovered near our bird club feeders. It’s not unusual to find Great Horned Owl nests in New York City. It’s our most common owl, documented as breeding since the mid-19th century though probably in residence for decades before. Its population has expanded in the state, probably due to the increase in the open and second-growth woodlands that it prefers. I’ve seen Great Horned Owl nests in six parks in my borough, Queens, as well as other areas of the city. Nests tend to be kept secret here, principally to prevent stress and harassment. Sometimes the owls don’t cooperate though, and nest right next to a public path, where we birders get to point it out to locals (including pleas to leash their dogs). This is the best part of urban owling, seeing the awe in people’s faces when you point out the owl nest with downy nestlings peering out, or maybe Papa standing guard a few feet away, half hidden in ivy. “There are owls here! In the city! That is AWESOME. How did they get here? Where will they go after the babies leave the nest?” I’m not sure how they got to NYC, but I know where they’ll go—somewhere deep into the woods where they’ll taunt us with their hoots till the middle of winter when nesting will start again (Donna Schulman).
Long-eared Owl
My first ever LEOs were found breeding at the old crows’ nest at the nearby fish farm (unlike hole-nesting owls, LEOs use open nests, but they do not build them, only occupy them).
Yet, seeing a Long-eared Owl in Serbia is a pretty straightforward business: you want a LEO? Okay, let’s go to this or that town park. And in winter they will be there, from a dozen to several dozen, mostly, and in cold winters up to several hundred in some places. The world record 734 Long-eared Owls were counted in the main town square in Kikinda, in December 2009. With ever-warmer winters, that figure is lower now. The best season is from mid-November to mid-January, the colder – the better.
It is estimated that some 30,000 LEOs in about 450 roosts overwinter in the country. Most of them hold a few dozen birds, several have 400, and then comes the crown jewel – Kikinda, the World Owl Capital.
Winter flocks being so easy, I particularly cherish those found by sheer luck, without previous knowledge, like the one hunting at sunset, a few meters from me, by the levee from which I was counting geese coming to their roost. Or this one at the steep-cliff Danube riberbank (photo). It was a small roost of 5 dozy birds with amber eyes, irresistibly adorable (Dragan Simic).
Brown Fish Owl
The area around Delhi has a surprisingly large number of bird species, including several owls. A local guide promised to show me 5 species and delivered on 4 of them, including the Brown Fish Owl.
According to the guide, this individual did reasonably well despite only having one eye (though that makes you wonder a bit about the supposed importance of eyesight for owls).
It was, however, relentlessly mobbed by many of the larger passerines – bad for the owl, but making it much easier to find than based on its cryptic appearance alone (Kai Pflug).
Little Owl
It should be illegal to publish an owl post that does not include the Little Owl – to me, it is the most owlish looking of all owl species, and anyone who has ever used the owl as a symbol or logo for something should probably pay royalties to the species.
Fortunately, it is also one of the easier to see owls, at least in China. I have seen it in 3 provinces so far (Inner Mongolia, Sichuan, and Qinghai), and hope to add more.
It is named after my favorite Greek goddess, Athene. To be precise, the scientific name Athene noctua refers to Athene, the goddess of wisdom (good), war (not so good), and the liberal arts (good again). Apparently, her favorite bird was the owl, an ancient association with her primitive role as goddess of the night (source). If she was a human, I am sure she would wear Doc Martens (Kai Pflug).
Spotted Eagle-Owl
Before visiting the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens in Capetown, South Africa, I had read about a Spotted Eagle-Owl residing there – but once I was there, I could not find it. The park staff did not seem to know its roost either (or more likely, they did not want the owl to be disturbed too much).
So, I walked around until I found it – a very happy moment. And while Cornell calls it a rather small eagle owl, I found it to be quite big and impressive.
Regular birders in Southern Africa would probably have been less impressed – apparently, it is the most common owl species there in many areas (not for nothing, the scientific name is Bubo africanus). But that did not diminish my joy in any way (Kai Pflug).
Photos by the authors if not indicated otherwise. Cover photo: Barn Owl chicks, Visselhoevede area, Germany (photo Kai Pflug)
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