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Reminiscences of Wytham Woods, a Barn Owl extravaganza and sleepy Whooper Swans



I decided to do something a little different this morning and have a stroll around Wytham woods. I must confess that these woods hold bitter sweet memories for me. For most of my adult life I was (was being the operative word) a very serious runner and Wytham Woods was the location of my last ever competitive race in 2010. In order for me to win our running club championship that year I had to compete in the last race in the competition even though I was carrying a pretty major tendon injury. The result was that I won the club championship but exasperated the injury so badly that it was six months before I could run properly again. By this time the motivation had really gone and I soon decided that my serious running days were over. Wytham woods was also the location for my clubs weekly hill training sessions in the winter. These involved some ten miles of hill repetitions, i.e jogging down a hill then running flat out up it repeated ten times before moving onto the next hill – it’s fun honest! Running is a funny sport, the satisfaction and buzz comes when you finish a good training session or race, rather like feeling good when you stop banging your head against the wall! I used to characterise the intensity of my running at three levels: -

1.    Moderate – you can hold a reasonable conversation with the people you are running with.
2.    Intermediate – you could no longer hold a conversation but your brain was still capable of drifting off and thinking about other things.
3.    Severe – i.e race mode, everything is focused on running as fast as you can and trying to ignore the pain, your brain is incapable of thinking about anything apart from when this will end!

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Did I really use to enjoy this? 

My walk around Wytham was pleasant and peaceful until the rain brought an end to it mid-morning. Birding wise is was fairly typical winter deciduous forest fare. Nuthatches were frenetically running up and down branches searching for an invertebrate morsel. Marsh tits in mixed tit flocks alerted me to their presence by showering me with falling moss as they searched for food in the tree tops above my head. Greater spotted woodpeckers were drilling into dead trees in search of winter substance seemly unaware or completely disinterested in my presence.

Access to Wytham woods is by permit only obtained foc from the university office. Dog walking and cycling are not permitted in the woods.

Following two weekends of storms the floods around Standlake Common are now the worst I have seen them in the ten years I have lived here. Many paths are impassable as the adjacent ditches flow over. Plum lane and the adjacent field are flooded as is the top of Langley lane before the reserve gate. Beyond the gate access to the Langley lane hide is now by submarine only. The Windrush, which runs through the bottom of our garden, is a raging torrent of muddy water. 

The garden daffodils seem to have mainly survived the storms and are coming into flower, this always feels to me like the start of the gardening year proper. In the heated greenhouse the tomatoes and peppers have germinated and are out of the propagator. The cuttings from last year’s hanging baskets are growing strongly and are in need of potting on. Many of these cuttings date back to plants first grown or brought ten years plus ago and I love the feeling of renewal that comes with seeing the tiny cuttings of last autumn spring into life to fill our summer hanging baskets anew.

Yesterday afternoon I braved the elements and visited Farmoor in search of Barn Owls. Ewan had posted some beautiful pictures of them hunting over the wasteland near Pinkhill lock, see  Ewan's blog  for a great read. I parked in the main Farmoor car park and walked across the causeway towards Pinkhill at which point the heavens opened and torrential rain and strong winds hammered into me. I seriously considered turning back but could see clearer sky beyond the storm and decided to press on. I soon located an Owl quartering the wasteland on the Eynsham side of Pinkhill lock. During the next hour it slowing made its way to Shrike meadow and then flew back to where it had started to start the whole process again. It dropped to the ground many times but never did I see it get a positive result. Barn Owls feathers have deeply fractalized ends giving them the superpower of silent flight to surprise their prey. A few years ago I had a birthday present of a bird of prey experience day. The falconer had me hold a piece of raw chicken in a gauntlet and then told me to close my eyes and see if I could hear the Barn Owl approaching. There was not the slightest sound to give away its impending arrival before it landed on my hand. The stealth flight mode does not work well in wet weather hence giving the prey more time to escape and I worry that this terribly wet winter does not bode well for the wellbeing of our lovely Barn Owls. At one point as I was watching the Owl hunt it broke off and flew towards me landing on a post some 30 meters away. It then proceeded to scan the surrounding terrain simply unworried or unaware of my presence before recommencing its hunting, a truly magical moment.




A week or so ago my friendly neighbour and black belt birder Mick found five Whooper Swans in amongst a large flock of Mute Swans just a stone’s throw from Standlake on the Old Shifford to Cote single track road. We have three species of swan in the UK, the common orange billed Mute Swan and two yellow billed winter visitors, Whooper and Berwick’s Swans. The elegant Whooper Swans were immediately obvious in amongst the Mute’s as I drove down the road and I stopped to get a few photo’s. Unfortunately, these were straight into the light as there was no obvious way of getting behind the Swans without flushing them due to lack of cover.




P.S. – For some inexplicable reason my iPhone autocorrects Wytham to euthanasia! I agree Wytham village is a bit sleepy but I really don’t think it was that bad!! 

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