Owls, Films, and Finishing Uni

About a week ago, after a year of working on it, I finally submitted my 12000 word dissertation. My degree is in Film and Television and English Literature but the topic was of course wildlife-related: I decided to focus on how owls are depicted in film and how this might influence attitudes towards their conservation.

Me and my diss.

My dissertation.

My topic of choice stemmed from a mini-obsession with owls that began in 2019 when my flatmate pointed out that I’d never actually seen a wild owl. But this wasn’t just bad luck - owls are pretty elusive and most people probably only glimpse them by chance on a country road, late at night. This mysterious element is something which I explored a little in my dissertation: historically and mythologically owls have been painted as mysterious birds, wise birds, and ghostly birds. This is perhaps why I find them so fascinating and, as I discovered in my research, it is the physical form of the owl, its aesthetic, which contributes to these meanings. Its round face and wide eyes makes it seem human-like and intelligent; its bright plumage in the dark night makes it seem like a ghost; its elusive nature makes it mysterious and means that many never truly understand it as a creature.

Before I even had this dissertation idea, I simply just wanted to see as many different owls as I could and photograph them if possible. I started with the short-eared owl: these owls are the most active during the day out of the UK’s owl species and so in theory they would be the easiest to see. Every winter there tends to be an influx of these owls from Scandinavia to our grasslands where they take advantage of milder weather and an abundance of tasty voles. Luckily, I found a place where a few were regularly being seen hunting during the afternoon - and it was only a half hour train journey away from my flat, in Glasgow.

The first time I went along I saw nothing - even though several had been seen the day before. The next time, I was luckier. I saw three short-eared owls hunting up and down the grasslands. It was a little dark for photos though and I only managed a few distant frames.

A distant short-eared owl at dusk.

It was pretty weird seeing my first wild owls - it almost felt like seeing a mythical creature. This is unsurprising now having found from my dissertation that literature and film actually train us to think this way. They are constantly portrayed as magical creatures which adds a huge amount of surrealism to any physical encounter in the wild. It’s easy to see why the short-eared owl could be seen as magical though. It flew more like a giant, fluttering moth than a bird, like a golden phantom floating over the fields.

A few months later and I was back in Edinburgh for Easter. To my surprise, I heard about some short-eared owls that were still kicking about only a 10 minute drive from my house. Over the next couple of weeks I went as much as I could until they had all left to return to their summer breeding grounds. Again, I got to watch them fluttering around the grasslands - the surrealism enhanced by the fact that these fields were right next to a housing estate. The owl, which had previously been so elusive, was flying in daylight almost right within the city. Again, photographic opportunities were limited but I looked forward to their potential return. Unfortunately, the housing estate has now extended into these fields and the hunting grounds are no more. I’ll never get to see those owls there again.

I knew that the short-eared owl would be the easiest to find, but I also knew there was a good chance of spotting tawny owls and barn owls locally as well. Little owls are virtually non-existent in Scotland so I’ll have to visit them in England someday soon. As for long-eared owls, I know of a couple of sites near Edinburgh where they nest but they are very prone to disturbance and probably too many people know their whereabouts already. They’ll also have to wait until a more suitable opportunity presents itself.

The tawny owl is thought to be the most widespread and common UK owl, and I’d heard them near my house before, so on paper this should have been a relatively easy find. However, they are a strictly nocturnal species and I’d have to get incredibly lucky to spot one in its daytime roost. Again though, it was an urban site that proved to be the most fruitful. I’ve spent countless hours looking for tawnies in my local woodland but have still not even glimpsed one. One trip to Edinburgh’s Botanic Gardens, however, and I’d seen my first tawny within 20 minutes. I’d heard on twitter that an owl had been seen in daytime, albeit pretty high up in the branches of a tree, so it seemed like a good opportunity to at least see one. When I arrived at the spot, however, I was pretty surprised to find a tawny perched right out in the open, watching me from a branch, almost at eye-level. I spent a good half-hour or so with it before leaving it to nap in peace. Having never seen one before, what surprised me the most was how small it was. Even with a 500mm lens it was reasonably small in the frame. I managed to get some pictures that I’m fairly happy with though.

Looking into the tawny owl’s eyes it’s easy to see how we think these birds are wise and intelligent - their large eyes and round face are recognisable to us, they’re familiar. There’s something both fascinating and a little eerie about this. But then again, the owl only appears like this for its own survival. Everything about its appearance it simply designed to enable it to hunt effectively at night. In fact, its large eyes mean that its brain is actually pretty small. Owls aren’t really that smart.

I’ve only had a few night-time glimpses of these wise-looking owls since this encounter (which was in 2019) but I’m sure I’ll get lucky again someday. A species that I’ve had less luck with is the barn owl. My first sighting of one came at work towards the end of 2019. It was December and I was working later than usual so it was pretty dark outside. I went out to the backyard which sits right next to some farmland. The yard was illuminated by bright floodlights but in the darker corner I could see a white, glowing object in a tree, just slightly lit. I took a few steps closer to confirm my suspicions. It was a barn owl. It only stuck around for a minute or so after it spotted me: it was probably used to all the humans being home from work at this time. I reckon it was using the artificial light to hunt the mice and rats at the bins on a stormy night when its hearing would be less effective. Owls often do a similar thing with moonlight on windy nights - their hearing is their best hunting asset but they can also use their eyesight effectively in a lit-up clearing. Of course, I didn’t have my camera with me at work, but it was encouraging to see evidence of a local population.

A few months later, armed with my a camera, my mum’s car, a flash, and a torch, I set out to try and search the local roads for barn owls hunting at field edges. I was surprisingly successful. Within half-an-hour I had found one chilling by a farm, looking for voles in the rough, grassy edges of a field. It was pretty difficult to stop the car, position the torch for focusing, and take the photo all at once, but I made a reasonably good attempt at it. I’m planning to try this again sometime soon but probably with someone else driving for me, to make things a little easier.

Night owl.

Again, its clear how mythical meaning has formed from this aesthetic. The pale owl against the darkness of night-time is clearly a ghostly, spooky image. As I argue in my dissertation though, we need to be careful with how we represent these kinds of myths on screen - do they encourage negative conservational attitudes? If the answer is yes then perhaps a better understanding of their natural function would be helpful. Furthermore, films like Harry Potter even depict these creatures as pets. This is more obviously problematic and has actually affected real-world attitudes towards the owl. The owl is something which fascinates us and therefore appeals to us, but we cannot let this turn them into tradeable commodities. Maybe if we start to understand and acknowledge them as real, wild creatures rather than just mythical beings then we’ll even stop destroying their habitats and occupying these spaces for ourselves.

I must admit that my fascination with owls does still live on though. I only wish to see them in the wild, however, and witness their natural behaviours to try and understand them more. My search for them therefore continues today - I’m always looking out for new sightings or likely habitats and I’m keen to improve on my current owl photography efforts. Even after spending a year writing non-stop about these creatures, I still find them just as, if not more, fascinating. The other week I heard reports of a daytime tawny sighting in a local woodland; and it’s an opportunity that I’m not going to miss.

For more owl-related content, and better photos than mine, I’d recommend following these accounts on Instagram: @lamitchellnature, @bendalgleishwildlife (who has mastered the car-torch-flash owl photography technique), @imagesfromthewild, @simonwantling_photography

Miriam Darlington’s novel, Owl Sense, is also a great book to read if you’re into owls. It provided me with a lot of inspiration for my dissertation topic as well.