When I was a kid, we had a pair of owls roosting in one of the large trees near my home. I still have a distant memory of their eery hooting in the evenings. But later I got used to it and then too busy with my studies to care for it.
When I grew up and tried to photograph their possible descendants, I realised how rare this species has become. I was very excited to spot this one at the top a tree outside my fence. It was out of reach for my point and shoot camera, but I clicked. To my eyes it appeared nothing more than a silhouette. Honestly I did not expect a reply, when I posted it on a Flickr group, Field Guide: Birds of the World, for identification. To my surprise, I got a quick reply saying it was a Jungle owlet and then in all my ignorance I suggested it could not be an immature one, to be called as an owlet. It received a polite reply advising me that Jungle owlet is the common English name for that species and it has nothing to do with the bird's age. The influence on me was so strong that I bought a field guide to the birds of the Indian subcontinent in the same month.
One month later when I came back home on a holiday, I saw this one trying to chase away a pair of Common mynas. This dead coconut tree was one of the 2 such trees suitable for nesting at that time. Unfortunately most people in my village are intolerant towards dead trees. As soon as a tree stops yielding its been cut down, completely forgetting the fact that they provide excellent nesting opportunities for a wide variety of bird species.
In this following occasion when this Jungle owlet came up to land on a tree, not far from my bedroom, I was fortunate to have a clear direct view. I was laying on my bed relaxing over a heavy breakfast. Since my windows were wide open, I was completely exposed and I didn't dare to move to reach for the camera. What I could do was to pull the window curtain close, inch-by-inch, whenever this bird turned its head away. Once I was behind the blind, I could safely reach for my camera to take this picture.
To me, the most difficult part of taking the picture of a Jungle owlet is to locate it before I am seen. This could be true for any owl species. They are perfectly camouflaged for their habitat, rarely move, truly inconspicuous and on their lightly loaded wings with special feathers they effortlessly flow through the woods without the faintest noise. Their keen eyesight and acute hearing make it almost impossible to approach them without being spotted.
I started noticing that whenever I stepped out of my room, a dark brown bird flies away from a short tree. First I thought it would be a Rufous Woodpecker, but then I realised a woodpecker with its characteristic restlessness cannot go unnoticed. I decided to have a watch on that tree through my window. It took less than a couple of hours before this beautiful bird came back to reveal its identity, a Jungle owlet. Now I could enjoy my advantageous position, I crawled out of my room and up to the fence to take this photo. I used spot metering on the bird to handle silhouette creating strong back light.
After tasting the success I went on to record all its preferred perches. Most of the big trees in my compound were planted by my grand mother, Devaki Krishnan. However after her death, her youngest son with a very bad taste for wildlife, considered many of these trees worthless.
Two years later, this was the only tree remaining in my original list of Jungle owlets' favorite perches. I took this photo from my roof, keeping a low profile and covered with a home made camouflage cloth.
