The Wise Owl

Driving through some country lanes yesterday, I suddenly caught the glimpse of the silent flight of an owl swooping low over a field to my right. It`s a sight that always thrills me. So rarely do I spot an owl. Until about three years ago I`d never seen an owl in the wild before, in its natural habitat. I remember clearly the first one I saw, it was sitting on a branch of a tree which reached out across the narrow country lane I was driving along. It just sat there watching. So beautiful a sight.

I don`t know what the fascination for them is, maybe it goes back to this childhood rhyme about an owl:

A wise old owl sat in an oak,
The more he heard, the less he spoke;
The less he spoke, the more he heard;
Why aren't we all like that wise old bird?

And what a lot of good sense there is in that!