Lumbering noisily through the undergrowth in their khaki, Shh’ one of the clumsy oafs hisses to the other one.

I watch unblinking from the barn roof as they stumble past.

‘Is it this where you saw him?’ One of them whispers. Poor deluded fools they think I can’t see them or hear them - seriously! I can detect a mouse in the grass do they for one second believe that I don’t know they are here. And I know that they are here for me.

They start fiddling with gadgets, and scan the sky in every direction. ‘Do you think he will show tonight?’ I hear them ask hopefully.

Slowly I blink and crouch before magestically taking to the air, my wings beating so slowly that I make no noise as I swoop past them and suddenly into their view. Gliding past in slow motion like a ghost and then rising into the dark night and away from them.

I hear their gasp as they admire my beauty, my grace, my perfection. For I am owl and they are the lumbering ground dwellers who hide in the cold wood just to see me.