The daylight was slowing fading and the night sky was gathering, looking moody and menacing. Dusk had arrived and the trees on the hill stood out as black silhouettes looking majestic and demanding some prose to capture this spring evening.
As I opened the window I could just about pick out a faint sound that is so distinct. Against the backdrop of the hum of city life – the backdrop to our lives that travel across the airwaves everyday – I could just make out the wonderful sound of an owl.
It faded in and out as the dusk chorus saw the slow gradual fading of birdsong winding down for the day. I’ve heard owls before in a nearby woodland, just a stones throw away, but only briefly and not for a while.
This owl was clear and distinct, its distinctive call echoing through the gathering night sky. The call of the owl struggled to compete with the noise of cars and car doors shutting but then it was as clear as could be and it almost felt that it was within touching distance. I strained to try and pick up its movement in the darkness of the valley beyond the city limits.
You could sense that the owl was moving as the hoots faded in and out. This was one of those experiences that clearly showed to me the power of nature to create a sense of wonder and rich experiences that last a lifetime.
I hope that the owls will be there tonight and I can begin to imagine the wildlife that calls Charlcombe Valley home.