Saturday 8 February 2020

A Great Grey Owl in The Land of The North 5th February 2020


I will begin by referring back to a much loved children's cartoon series called 'Noggin the Nog' which was shown on the BBC from 1959-1965. The introduction, spoken in grave tones by its creator Oliver Postgate, went as follows:

'In the Lands of the North where the black rocks stand guard against the cold sea, in the dark night that is very long, the men of the Northlands sit by their great log fires and tell a tale'

So here is my tale of a visit to the Northlands (in actual fact Norway) in search of a Great Grey Owl, a bird I have wanted to see for much of my life and as a consequence one that had taken on a mystical and legendary status in my psyche.

Following an invasion of Pine Grosbeaks into Scandinavia in the latter two months of last year Peter and myself had contacted Simon Rix, a British birder living in Oslo, the capital of Norway. In November last year we had a very successful two day odyssey with Simon, in the forests around Oslo, watching the grosbeaks and while there Simon told us of a Great Grey Owl that had been seen occasionally nearby. We tried briefly to see it but failed and soon realised it would require much more effort and planning to see this charismatic bird of the northern pine forests.

Throughout the latter part of December and then January this year Simon commenced to publish on his blog see here fabulous photos of  Great Grey Owls which, by mid January, he was seeing virtually on a daily basis. Just before Christmas he had contacted me advising that the chances of connecting with this owl were now very good and I should come as soon as I could but family commitments over Christmas and New Year prevented this. Throughout January, mouth watering photos of this large owl continued to appear on Simon's blog and also on Twitter, from other birders who had taken up the challenge and gone to Oslo. It was becoming unbearable as images of the bird of my dreams, taunted me, night and day.

Great Grey Owls consist of two distinct subspecies Strix nebulosa nebulosa which is the North American subspecies and S.n.lapponica which is the Northern Eurasian subspecies. It is the latter that the Norwegian birds originate from, distributed from Fennoscandia eastwards through Siberia to Sakhalin and north of Kamchatka, then ranging south to Lake Baikal, Kazakhstan, Mongolia and Manchuria.

They inhabit mature lichen covered coniferous forests, preferring the more open areas that are intermixed with deciduous trees such as larch, and silver birch.

Great Grey Owls are one of the world's largest owls and by length they are the largest, although not the heaviest. They have a five foot wingspan and a huge rounded head consisting of mainly feathers and distinctive small yellow eyes. Their body feathers are long and fluffy which creates the impression of great size but in reality, underneath all the feathers their actual body is tiny. The round facial disc is the largest of any raptor in the world, consisting of many dark concentric rings with short white eyebrows and lores, forming a noticeable white X in the centre of its face.There is a black patch below the horn yellow bill and distinct white fringes to the lower edges of the facial disk Its sturdy short legs and feet are densely covered with grey feathering.


I eventually found a 'window of opportunity' in early February and decided to take a huge risk and fly to Norway on Wednesday 5th February, returning the next day. This was possible thanks to Ryanair and would give me one and a half days to see the owl. Others much bolder than myself and taking an even greater chance, only went for a day and still managed to see the owl.

I formed my plan. Coincidentally Peter contacted me about going to see a Dusky Thrush in Belgium, which hardly enthused me as I had already seen two in Britain. I told Peter about my plan to travel to Norway and he said he would rather come with me as his only reason for going to Belgium was because  he was bored with the lack of birds to see here in Britain.

And so it was that I sent a text to Simon who said he could manage to guide us to the owls on Wednesday and Thursday, the 5th and 6th of February. We booked our return flight on Ryanair and a hotel for one night in Oslo. As on our previous trip we would spend Tuesday night at my sister's house near Stansted and get a taxi to the airport in the very early hours of next morning in order  to catch our 6.30am flight to Oslo.

It was not without several delaying diversions that I finally succeeded in getting around Oxford in the rush hour to collect Peter from his home but everything then went according to plan and at 5am on Wednesday morning we were duly deposited at Stansted where we joined fellow bleary eyed, slightly dazed travellers filing through the living hell of the security check, then winding our way through a garish alley of high end retail booths and staff trying to lure bemused travellers to buy their products. I purchased some food and drink to consume later in the day in Norway in order to save myself a small fortune, as everything in Norway is hugely expensive by our standards.

We found a departure board which showed our flight had already been assigned a gate and with refreshing ease we were soon seated on our plane. Even better was the fact the flight was only a third full and so we were offered a move to the emergency exit seats which had double the leg room and granted a row of seats each to ourselves.

It was still dark outside as I sat quietly and dozed, awaiting take off. The captain introduced himself on the intercomm and told us it was currently minus eight degrees in Oslo but it would be sunny! 

Two hours later I awoke to find we were over Norway and looked out of the window at a beautiful sunrise. I could see an endless vista of snow and ice below us, with stands of conifers, like great shadows, forming irregular dark patterns across the snowbound wastes. 'The Northlands' were right here, literally below me. 

Fortunately the temperature had risen fractionally to minus three or four by the time we disembarked and we were quickly through the automated passport control in the pleasant arrival hall of Gardemoen Airport. A quick phone call to Simon and five minutes later he was there to meet us outside the terminal in his 4x4 vehicle.

We set off immediately for an area of forest just northwest of the outskirts of Oslo called Maridalen where, hopefully, the longed for and now much anticipated meeting with a Great Grey Owl would take place. A lifetime of wishing and hoping rested on today and tomorrow. I did not feel overly pressured but I certainly was not totally confident either. Being birders both Peter and myself knew how fate and circumstance can play havoc with the most thorough of plans and how sometimes events can take a turn for the worse no matter what you do. Birds are wild creatures and not always predictable but this was as good a chance as we could hope for to see a Great Grey Owl.

Simon had, by the time of our visit, found five different Great Grey Owls in the forests around Oslo and consequently was respected by the Norwegian birding community and it was accepted that he was the man to listen to concerning the owls. This was important because, initially he had encountered problems with photographers when he found the first owl, as inevitably some got too enthusiastic and disturbed the owl. To cater for everybody Simon had only publicised this one site and kept the other sites confidential but even so he told us he had discovered a photographer trying to follow him by car to the other sites. 

Our first visit was to the publicised site where we found half a dozen sociable Norwegian birders/photographers standing by the roadside, looking at an area where the Spruce and Norwegian Pine had been thinned out by the local council to create a more diverse habitat of deciduous Silver Birch and Hazel as well as conifer trees. They were waiting for the owl to put in an appearance out of the forest, which it would hopefully do, by flying to perch on one of the silver birch trunks and hunt for voles in the snow below.

Previously, similar areas of the forest were just clear felled but this new, enlightened and more sympathetic form of forest management has created habitat that may have something to do with the appearance of the owls, as it is habitat they prefer, due to the voles also thriving in such conditions. Great Grey Owls are native to Norway but are only returning to southern areas since this new form of forest management has commenced.

Simon had an agreement that in return for publicising the site to other birders and photographers, everyone would remain on the road and no one would encroach into the thinned out areas, in order to avoid disturbing the owl and to their credit everyone had stuck to this but so far, today, there had been no sign of any owl.

The forest road from which to view the Great Grey Owl
We drove onwards to one of the other sites and leaving the car wandered into a fairy tale forest of snow underfoot and spruce, pine and silver birch trunks standing straight and tall around us. 




I love these winter forests, a mix of snow and trees standing mute in the freezing windless air as the sun, so very low on the horizon at this time of year, shines through the trees, dazzling my tired eyes. The forest at first seems so silent in the dead of winter with no signs of life. There is little human presence at this time of year, apart from a few birders, but with regard to wildlife think again or more pertinently listen. Occasionally a dog barks in the distance from a house away in the forest but then as your senses attune to the forest there are discrete sounds of various bird calls, the perpetrators invisible in the dark green density of the conifer tops above. Great and Blue Tits, Common Crossbills, Siskins, Bullfinches, Nuthatches, Great Spotted Woodpeckers are all there if you listen patiently. A Raven croaked, its call harsh, less tuneful and pleasing to the ear, obtrusively loud and reverberating through the peace of the frozen forest. A Jay joined in with a similar harsh exclamation and then fell silent. 

Simon heard some Long tailed Tits calling to each other, moving towards us and they came into view. These were the northern cousins of our familiar Long tailed Tits and differ in having completely snow white heads,  giving them the soubriquet 'snowballs' and which impart an appearance and demeanour like no other, frosted sprites of the forest and making it impossible to describe them as anything but adorable.

Northern Long Tailed Tit
We searched the trees and stumps but there was no owl visible. We tried another area but again had no luck. A female Common Crossbill, camouflaged in her army issue plumage of olive grey and greenish yellow  was busily collecting moss from a conifer branch to make her nest, and with a satisfactory beakful she made for a taller conifer nearby, her brick red mate in close attendance.

Female Common Crossbill gathering nest material
We tried a third site where a Northern Goshawk, unseen, called once in alarm but again there was no sign of any Great Grey Owl. Simon thought we were probably a bit late in starting to look for the owl as they are more active earlier in the morning. Due to the nine thirty arrival time of our plane we had no choice but to commence our search at sometime after ten thirty, some two hours after dawn.

We returned to the first site by the road and found the numbers of birders and photographers had dwindled to a handful and still no one had seen an owl. We stopped here anyway, as frankly we were now out of options. I was becoming dispirited but Simon was upbeat about matters and said we would eventually see the owl. I was tired from our ridiculously early start this morning in England and my spirits inevitably low but I was determined not to show it. As I said, birding success is never guaranteed. There was still time and opportunity for a successful outcome.

At that moment a Norwegian birder, a little further up the road, began waving his arms in a silent beckoning appeal to us. This could mean only one thing, surely? We raced up the road. A conversation in Norwegian ensued with Simon but it was obvious he had found a Great Grey Owl. Looking through a maze of lichen encrusted, thin tree trunks and a tangle of branches I saw a grey blur which in the bins became the highly acceptable and delightful prize we had spent the previous two hours looking for. It was being mobbed by two Ravens and not very happy about the fact. Normally fluffed up and with a rounded profile, it had now attenuated its body, streamlined into a tense alertness, eyes glaring, similar to the way a Long eared Owl responds when alarmed. It faced its tormentors who remained at a discrete distance in the trees above, turning its huge disc like face towards them, following their every move with its pale yellow eyes. Staring in unblinking concentration. Huge and grey, the darker greyish brown chevrons, mottlings, streaks and barrings over its body and wings replicated the lichen encrusted trunks of the trees it perched amongst. Used to the short tails of Barn and Tawny Owls I was taken by the surprising length of its tail. It was a delight to see but the ultimate is to see that unique face, with its close set small yellow eyes, looking straight at you. This was clearly not going to happen with the Ravens around but although feeling a little deflated, even cheated, having wanted clearer views, I consoled myself with the fact that this was my first Great Grey Owl. Ever! A lifer but meaning so much more than that to me.

A Great Grey Owl - at last!
The owl eventually grew tired of being harassed and slipped softly and silently on its great wings further into the forest. A Red Squirrel scampered across the forest floor. It was decision time for us. Two Northern Hawk Owls were, according to Simon fairly easy to see at a place called Ringi Farm some thirty minutes drive away. 'Let's go there and we can come back in the afternoon to look for the Great Grey which might be more active then' I suggested and this met wth approval from Peter as a Northern Hawk Owl would be another lifer for him.

It was a relief to sit in the back of Simon's 4x4 and warm up as we drove to the hawk owl location. I was more tired than I cared to admit but fuelled by adrenalin was still able to function and although I had seen a Northern Hawk Owl some years ago in The Netherlands, I was more than happy to see another. The area they were frequenting was one of undulating snow covered farm fields with a plentiful supply of tall conifers for them to perch on, usually at the very top or, failing that, plenty of wires running between pylons that crossed the farmland.



It was colder here than in the forest and a chilling wind blew across the open land and into my face. Not a time to stand about. Simon found a Northern Hawk Owl some way off across the fields perched at the very top of a spruce. There was meant to be another one nearer, around the farm itself but we could not find it so a decison was made to walk to the distant owl sat on top of the spruce. A long and slightly slippery walk got us in position near to the spruce the owl was favouring and we watched as it sat on top of the tree, being mobbed, in turn, by four Greenfinches and a pair of Common Crossbills. 



It looked very smart in its plumage of barred grey, black, brown and white but was totally disinterested in doing anything and certainly not moving from its lofty perch.

Northern Hawk Owl
There is only so long you can look at a distant bird on top of a tree in freezing conditions and remain enthused, even if it is a Northern Hawk Owl and I was keen to get back to the woods at Maridalen to try to see a Great Grey Owl, but properly this time and not through a tangle of branches and tree trunks.

We made the thirty minute drive back to Maridalen and drove past the persistent small huddle of birders and photographers at the original site but they signalled they still had no luck, so far, in seeing the owl.

The area of thinned out forest where the Great Grey Owl eventually appeared
We carried on and stopped to search likely looking thinned out forest nearby but with no success. Bullfinches, Siskins and Common Redpolls flew over in the cold and now sunless grey sky above. It was while we were conducting yet another fruitless search in yet another location that Simon got a phone call from the group by the road telling him a Great Grey Owl was now visible, perched on a silver birch trunk. This was it. At last!

I followed Simon with as much haste and dignity as I  could muster along a slippery, iced, snow covered track leading out of the forest and back to the road.We turned up the road and walked to join the group of half a dozen locals who were watching and photographing the owl which was perched on a small spike jutting out from the trunk of a silver birch. Now for the first time I could see a Great Grey Owl in all its majestic glory,  my view unencumbered by any intervening trees. It was perched side on to us and looking away. I prayed it would turn that huge bulbous head and look at us.This was the iconic view I wanted. For minutes it unknowingly teased and taunted as it moved its head to focus on any sound it heard on the ground below but never once looked across and towards us.



And then it happened. Slowly it swivelled its great head round and from a huge dish of a face, one of close packed dark concentric rings, it glared across the ground between us with two pale yellow eyes, looking too small for such a large bird. To look into that face is as if to look into another world of antiquity, one that has gathered to its centre all the history of legend, myth, time and evolution. It is a face that is unique amongst owls, a face that can show a multitude of expression and if an avian face can possess charisma, this radiated it in abundance. In the space of a few seconds we regarded each other. Eye to eye. The countless times I have looked longingly at photos and illustrations and wondered and fantasised about seeing this fabulous creature, alive in its native habitat, had now come to this final triumph of accomplishment. A cathartic fruition like no other.







For a brief moment I was suspended in a transcendental vacuum between reality and fantasy. My surroundings and fellow birders faded to a distant margin before reality returned. I felt I had entered the soul of the owl, one of limitless pine forests that stretch to the very edge of a world that is forever mysterious and mythical. A wondrous bird in a suitably wonderful situation. A romance of time, space and experience to savour in future times far from here. Unforgettable.

We stood for an hour or so as more birders joined us, alerted by phone calls from colleagues.There was never a crowd, no more than fifteen at the most. We were waiting for the owl to fly down into the snow to seize a vole but it never looked likely it would.

Simon (in foreground)  and assorted Norwegian paparazzi
The light was fading. Although the days are gradually lengthening it is dark by five thirty so we reluctantly left the owl, having watched it do precisely nothing other than move its head in the direction of sounds it heard on the ground, none of which enticed it from its perch.

Simon dropped us off at the Anker Hotel, our accommodation for the night in the centre of Oslo.

View from our room 804 in the Anker Hotel 
Both of us were very tired  and rested on our beds for an hour and then went on a long exploratory walk down a street full of lively bars and shops before returning for a nightcap in the hotel. I knew this would cost me dearly but I was too tired to resist and bought two beers at a total cost of seventeen pounds. I made the beer last as did Peter. We certainly would not be buying another!

Then it was back to the room for a blessed night's sleep, both of us hoping that tomorrow we would manage to get those absolutely sensational close up views of a Great Grey Owl that we so craved. We had only six hours tomorrow to achieve it before we had to catch our flight.

My final thought before sleep came over me was, please let the birding gods look favourably on us tomorrow.

to be continued

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