I checked no one was looking, then furtively pulled the package from my coat pocket and quickly passed it over. “There’s some good stuff there,” I added, with a knowing nod. They examined the contents before tucking it into a rucksack. “Yeah, nice. Any chance you could get 10 for my mate?” And so it was that I became a prolific dealer in owl pellets, in school playgrounds, at work and even by post, in exchange for the simple joy of sharing this pastime.
Dissecting owl pellets – AKA owl vomit – is a beloved activity of wildlife groups and nature clubs. They’re so sought after that you can even buy them on eBay for a surprising price. Nowadays, I just supply the goods to a couple of old friends.
Today, I find myself underneath a tree where a barrel has been converted into a barn owl nestbox, scrabbling on the ground to fulfil a promise. I find seven – not bad. Each is a dense, brown sausage that looks like excrement, but is a carefully made lozenge of mouse skeleton and all the indigestible parts of an owl’s diet. The fur of mice is visible on the outside, like a soft coating; maybe this eases the regurgitation process. I don’t know why, but I raise it to my nose – inhaling the strange, musty tang of otherness.
The hedgerow beside me is thick, and tiny birds flit in and out. Tree sparrows, blue tits and yellowhammers – just a bright lemon flash – move busily through swaying catkins and bursting leaf buds. My eye is caught by hundreds of empty snail shells under the hedge, a scene of devastation stretching on into the distance. What could have happened?
The soil is lime rich here, which not only helps the snails build strong shells but also makes them slower to break down. This is not a mass die-out, but a graveyard created over years. Thrushes and small mammals such as shrews are the most likely cause, plucking the snails from their hibernation in the plastic tree guards.
I collect a few of the prettiest shells, banded like humbugs. With my pockets now bulging with unlikely objects, I set off to drop some of the good stuff through my friend’s letterbox.
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