Aggressive Snowy Owls

Since my last story I have continued to seek out and photograph the snowy owls in the area with which I am most familiar. Besides seeing owls and learning their individual habits I enjoy reconnecting with the Mennonite community who call me ‘the owl guy’.

The farm dogs know my car and know I carry dog treats for them. The kids stop their outdoor hockey games to wave. A few of the farmers have climbed down from their tractors to share stories of their owls sightings.

From them I learn useful intel. And on every visit, besides hoping to photograph owls, I try to come away having learned something new.  For instance, which ones are easily spooked by the approach of  horse drawn buggies on Sunday afternoons, or transport trucks and school buses.

Occasionally I have seen other photographers along these roads and I am sure they are questioning my sanity as I sit in the middle of a field in temperatures as low as -18C (-28C real feel) for roughly an hour each time.

Frequenting the area means I can eventually establish which owls prefer which locations to hunt. One female snowy apparently has a preference for three particular fields in the area and, as I learned Tuesday – and on which I will elaborate – will defend her territory.

Earlier this week I spotted her during a snow shower. When I returned half an hour later she was still there. Being the time where, in my experience, snowy owls are the most attuned to their surroundings – and beginning to choose where they will hunt – I entered the field and waited. She has seen me at least half a dozen times.

A female owl moving to her preferred tree to hunt during a snow shower 


Along with the arctic temperatures there has been a lot of blowing snow in this area. So the roads are ice covered. One of the side roads where I saw three snowy owls on my first sighting this year isn’t maintained during the winter. The snow is too deep to drive a car along so I parked next to one of the farms – with the farmer’s permission of course.

Earlier in the after using my binoculars I had spotted an adult male owl hundreds of metres from the road. He and I have had a couple of encounters already so I am not a stranger.

I took a quick drink of water, put on my gloves and checked my camera battery power making sure I had spares in pockets close to my body. In these temperatures camera batteries drain very, very quickly.  Then I trudged along the road before braving the deep snow-filled ditch and crossing the field.

It was slow going as in some places the snow came up to my knees. The owl watched my approach and when I felt I was close enough without disturbing him I kneeled down in the snow. This little guy often hunts from a hydro pole on this road so I figured at some point he would fly past me.

The bitter cold was hard and I constantly had to remove outer gloves to move my fingers to get circulation going. Eventually, and just before there was complete darkness, he preened his feathers, stretched and then made his move.

The adult male heading to one of his preferred hydro poles to hunt

Early afternoon yesterday I saw the female on a tree made a mental note to return and continued looking for the other owls in these fields. After a lap of my usual route I came back and was astonished to find the adult male now perched atop a hydro pole. This is a spot the female had previously claimed.  

Leaving my car I crossed the field and sat down in the snow probably 40 metres from the pole. A couple of other photographers turned up and parked on the road. The owl watched them – and could hear them talking to each other on speaker phones. They can hear very well. Indeed, any time I shift position in the snow and they are in hunting mode some will hone in on the sound.

The photographers left and again I was alone with the owl. The sun was going down and he was in no hurry. I could see him looking down the road where I knew there was a female perched. And he looked towards a field where the big female I have had very positive encounters with was presumably located. Suddenly, he shifted position and looked anxious.

He turned as if he was going to fly away. That’s when I saw the arrival of the female who chased him off her favoured perch. One of them screamed during the altercation although I didn’t see any physical contact.

The female claimed the pole and the male was forced to vacate. 

By now my hands were numb and, remembering I was expected to play guitar at the local open mic in less than two hours, I walked back to my car. Before I left the area I took a look for the male. He was in a nearby tree. I imagine he was wondering where he could find some meadow voles without being attacked again by the larger female owls.

The female was gone when I looked back. No doubt she had made her point. Although they were roosting in a field close to one another – the very first time I saw them – when it’s time to hunt it’s every snowy owl for themselves.

                                                                                             -30-