For weeks (actually, make that months) we have heard hardly a hoot, despite always having the bedroom windows open even in the chilliest of weather; yep, we sure are a pair of hardy souls, aren’t we? But this past week the local tawny owls have been determined to wake Shana up in the middle of the night. If I’m right in thinking that mice — and all the other small animals that are top of the owls’ menu — are getting ready to hibernate, then it would make sense for owls to be having a last feast (a pig-out, even) before their food supply suddenly dries up. Presumably, that’s why we’re hearing so many at the moment.

Although we never reveal in our blog posts exact details of where we live, you can find out easily by strolling round the outskirts of Lincoln in the wee small hours and listening carefully. First you’ll hear the distinctive too-whit-too-woo call of the one and only Strix aluco. Seconds later will come a blood-curdling shriek of Shut up!!

Just follow your ears. And, if you can, please bring a spare set of ear-muffs — Shana will be most grateful.