Long-eared Owls in Guernsey
24 hours in Guernsey and my first encounter with one of Britain’s most elusive owls.
Long-eared Owls had been something of a missing piece for me. Despite spending more and more time photographing owls, they were one UK species I had never managed to see, let alone photograph.
Earlier in 2019, I had started chatting with Dan, a fellow photographer I had met through a photography group, after seeing some of his photographs of Long-eared Owls. Naturally, I asked where he'd found them. It turned out they were only an hour or so away from me. The slight catch was that the hour involved getting on a plane and flying over to Guernsey.
Dan kindly offered to let me know if a good opportunity arose to see them. A few weeks passed before, in August, I got the message I had been hoping for — three Long-eared Owl chicks were showing reliably and it was time to come over.
There was, however, a second catch. There was likely to be only a small window before the youngsters fledged and moved on, so the timing wasn't going to be particularly convenient. With only around a week's notice, I booked a flight from Southampton and a hotel for the night and headed to Guernsey for what would be a whirlwind 24 hours on the island.
The weather seemed determined to make things a little more interesting. As the weekend approached, the forecast became progressively worse, eventually predicting Force 7 winds — hardly ideal conditions for either flying or photography. Thankfully, the flight itself was remarkably smooth and, despite watching crops in the fields alongside the runway being blown almost horizontal, we landed in Guernsey without any drama.
Dan met me at the airport and spent some time showing me around the island. As the afternoon began to turn into early evening, we headed out to the area where the Long-eared Owls had most recently been seen.
One of the things I remember most vividly from that first encounter was hearing the distinctive screech of a young Long-eared Owl calling for food. Then another called from somewhere else, followed by another. With three youngsters spread around the area, their calls became almost like sonar, helping us work out where each owl was sitting.
That didn't necessarily make them easy to see. They were often tucked surprisingly deep into the undergrowth and, even when you knew roughly where a call had come from, their camouflage could make actually finding them remarkably difficult.
We were fortunate enough to locate all three chicks. They were at noticeably different stages of development, from the most mature, already looking much more like an adult with its developing ear tufts, through to the youngest which had yet to develop them.
We spent several hours with them that evening, battling both the wind and the glare of the bright sunshine while listening to the youngsters continually calling for food. We never saw the adults, but simply being able to sit and watch the behaviour of three young Long-eared Owls — a species I had never seen before that day — made the journey worthwhile.
As the sun began to disappear, we left the youngsters and went in search of Barn Owls. The evening provided one final bonus, with three Barn Owls hunting over a field until there was no longer enough light to photograph them.
There wasn't much time for sleep. Early the following morning we returned to the same area and this time found four Barn Owls hunting around us. Two eventually landed in the field close to where we were sitting, each carrying prey, which they proceeded to eat in front of us. It was a pretty special way to finish an already memorable 24 hours.
From there it was back to the airport for the short flight home. By 9:30 that morning I was sitting at home processing the photographs from a trip that had begun barely a day earlier.
I've been fortunate to photograph Long-eared Owls on a number of occasions since, but there is something particularly memorable about encountering a species for the first time. From jumping on a plane at short notice and battling the Guernsey wind, to hearing those first calls from somewhere deep in the vegetation, this remains one of those photography experiences that has stayed with me.
A huge thank you to Dan for giving me the opportunity, sharing his knowledge and taking the time to show me around the island.