Country diary: The young tawny owls are finding their voice | Nicola Chester

Inkpen, West Berkshire: They call over each other, interrupting, not having learned to take turns in this gameOn a still night just after harvest, there is an expectant silence. Chaff and chalk dust hang suspended in the air, giving the evening a milky lightness. I crunch conspicuously over squirrel-shattered hazelnut shells, lying on the hard ground like scattered milk teeth.In the field oak next to the wood, a tawny owl calls, loud and long, its voice breaking, before petering out as if it has run out of puff: hoo hoooo hooergh. It is one of this year's owlets, and the first time it has tried its adult voice. Last night, and every night in recent weeks, creaked with chicks calling to their parents: chiseek, chiseek, chiseeeek. It has felt momentous. Continue reading...