Are tawnies in trouble?

摘要

IT S MID-MARCH. I'm creeping through an ancient woodland on the outskirts of Bristol at 11.20pm. I can feel the biting easterly wind cutting through seven layers of clothing, yet I am in my element. As I walk, I glance up at the intense burst of starsglimmering through the leafless trees, then a sound grabs my attention and stops me in my tracks. There it is again, this time from a different direction. The unmistakable hooting of tawny owls begins echoing around me. Above my head, an adult male vigorously delivers his song and a female responds; her piercing screech raises the hairs on the back of my neck. The calling continues for several minutes then gradually dies down.