Long & Short Eared Owls

 

Every winter since I started wildlife photography, One of my goals have been to knock as many owl species off my checklist as possible. In the past, mainly last year, I've focused most of my effort on the super rare and elusive snowy owl with no success. After many trips to plum island, I had nothing to show for it besides low-quality harrier shots and low-quality shots of pintail, gadwall, and long tailed duck. 

This winter, there have been a few secret locations of rare migrant owls who's pictures are flooding Instagram: There is one northern hawk owl in Maine, A northern saw-whet owl in Maine, Short eared owls in Duxbury and Newbury, A saw-whet owl somewhere, and a pair of long eared owls sharing a cedar bush somewhere on the North Shore of Massachusetts.

It took me a while, but I finally tracked down the location of the northern hawk owl, and made the long drive up north, to take photos: Northern Hawk Owl Hunting. I then reconnected with some old photographer friends, who offered me the location of the long eared owl's roost. I shouldn't say where, specifically out of respect for the people who gave me the location, but it is somewhere along the North Shore.

I made the trip on the afternoon of February 20th, arriving at the site at around 3:00pm. There was already a thick cluster of people with long lenses and tripods, all focused on a single cedar tree. I parked and set myself up. The male and female looked like 2 light spots in the tree, and I couldnt stand to look at them for long, outside my viewfinder, since the sun had set enough to be glaring into our eyes, but was not yet low enough to be blocked by the thicket of cedars and pitch pine. I could exclusively view them through my camera.

The lighting was not good yet, and neither owl was active. Occasionally the lower owl (the female?) would open her eyes, look at some movement, like the harriers, gulls, and mockingbirds that kept passing by, and then dose off again...

Eventually, the sun became hidden by the tops of the trees, and the lighting started to improve. I caught one of them yawning...

                 

Finally, at around 4:30, the sun approached the horizon, and the sky lit up orange. Lighting all over the dunes started to soften up, and lighting was in its prime for the night...

then, both owls woke up completely and begun preening themselves, and stretching their wings. My shutter remote was broken, and I was forced to go back to using timer mode to take my shots, which still resulted in awful images, but at least the owls were in interesting poses...

Then, both owls flew across the parking lot, and started their hunt, completely vanishing into the vegetation covered sand dunes. By now, it was too dark to get any decent shots anyways...

With my confidence increased by the fact that I had found both the northern hawk owl and long eared owl, I decided to make an attempt to take photos of short eared owls, and went to Duxbury, MA to look for them. I had overheard a photographer at the long eared owl spot talking about there being consistent sightings of "shorties" at Duxbury reservation.

I went there with my mom, to scout the marshes for owls, but we must have chosen a wrong day, because we did not see any movement on the marsh all evening, with the exception of mergansers, gulls, eiders, brants and a long tailed duck pair.

I then conversed with another photographer, who gave me the exact location of a group of short eared owls. I won't give the exact location, but it was somewhere in Parker River NWR. I arrived at Plum Island at the end of February, and started driving down the main road, with the dunes, and open ocean to my left, and the delta of Parker River, which was made up of vast, clear marshland.

I stopped when I found a small group of photographers, with tripods and long lenses set up. I parked at a nearby lot, and joined the group. We waited for around 45 minutes. Nothing. The sun was still relatively high in the sky. Apparently, there had been 4 owls at this spot the previous day, so I was confident that this was the day. Finally, I spotted something flapping slowly against the wind, in the distance. I pointed, and everyone trained their cameras on the bird. I noticed its dark back when I finally focused my lens on it. Just a harrier.

Not long after the harrier, I finally saw what I came for. The silence broke, and people started murmuring and pointing their cameras at something. "Oh, theres two!" said someone. A duo of short eared owls were about 50 feet up in the sky, violently spiraling around each other. One owl was dive-bombing the other one, battling for hunting territory.

The pair headed off, and made their way over to another peninsula, fighting the whole way over. A few people started running as fast as they could, to get to the other peninsula.

after watching them get smaller and smaller, as they flew further, I also made the run down the street, to the lookout. This was a much better spot. One owl finally abandoned the fight, taking cover near some phragmites, and begun its evening hunt.

Short eared owls resemble giant moths in flight, with their rounded, broad wings, and short, fluffy heads. It then crossed the marsh in between the two peninsulas, and put on a show for the people who decided to stay put.

So of course, I ran as fast as I could back to the better vantage point. The owl, unfortunately did not make this very close flight again, instead disappearing into an island of trees.

People seemed happy with their shots, and started to leave. By now, it was probably about 4:30.

Only three photographers remained, when the sun was starting to set. Me, and 2 older guys who still had hope that an owl would return. Golden light covered the marsh, and it started to get dim. I maintained hope because I knew that short eared owls are crepuscular, becoming more active as the sun goes down. Suddenly, I saw a light flicker of movement, fluttering around in the brush.

The owl was only around 40 feet away! finally. By this point. it still hadn't caught any food, and was flying back and forth, scanning the ground for food. Finally, I was able to take pictures from close up, with golden light...

It finished off its "performance" by perching on a tree, silhouetting itself against the bright orange sunset...