My hungry neighbours.

The two Long-Eared Owl babies in my garden fledged a little while ago and now they're very noisy, playing and calling for food loudly in the trees. They don't go hoo-hooo, like you think owls do. They squeak. 'Eee-ip. Eee-ip'. Before I knew what kind of owl they were I thought they sounded like squeaky doors, and then when I looked them up in the book, it was easy to identify them. It says: 'juvenile begs for food with incessant high sharp squeaky-hinge calls'.

Mostly they sit in the trees right outside my window here, about fifteen feet away from me.

I've just been outside to look at them again. I was sitting in my pyjama's trying to make myself go to bed when I heard them shouting, so I put my army boots on and went to look. I can't stop doing it, I'm fascinated by them. As I went out they heard the door, so they flew over into the field and settled in the trees calling to each other. So I snuck around the house and over the lane and stood there a bit getting used to seeing in the moonlight.

They knew I was somewhere near because they went quiet, but after a minute or so I realised one of them wasn't in the trees because I could see it's outline in the moonlight, sitting on the telegraph pole. So I crept up really near and switched my torch on, and saw it properly, beautiful bird. It loooked at me for a few seconds, spread it wings, and then dive-bombed me, sweeping up over me at the last minute to land on my roof.

They're very, very noisy through most of the night at the moment, but I don't mind. They're only little, learning. And anyway, it's a priviledge to share their space.

I am secretly hoping that when they get big enough to move away from their mother they leave me a feather or two.