Four Owls, One Day

One of the most incredible wildlife experiences I’ve had this year stood out for good and bad reasons. This time last year, Instagram was awash with images of short-eared owls in the Bay Area. I had made a mental note to try and find some as Thanksgiving neared again, and with a few days off work, the timing was perfect.

I had narrowed in on one likely location through a combination of online research and chatting with other photographers, but I knew nothing was a guarantee. I headed over there one bright and chilly afternoon and spent a few hours walking in the hills with a friend. We saw hawks and kestrels but not a hint of a short-eared owl. However, the afternoon was not a waste as we found a beautiful burrowing owl amongst some rocks. As the sun began to set, the landscape started to glow in winter light, and we were able to photograph a relaxed burrowing owl in a new location.

As we left the area, we passed a few photographers with long lenses heading to their cars and immediately realized they knew something we didn’t. And then a short-eared owl flew through the air above the car in near darkness. So close, and yet so far! I made up my mind to come back for sunrise.

Naively, I thought I might have had the place to myself at that early hour or be joined by a couple of hardy souls with the same objective. As I arrived in the dark, there were already many, many photographers getting out of their vehicles and marching towards a viewing spot. I followed suit, at least reassured I was in the right place. Immediately, an owl was perched right at the side of the road, silhouetted against the city lights.

I’m not nearly enough of an expert to identify one species of owl from another in the dark, but from the chatter around me, I realized this was, in fact, a long-eared owl, a much rarer species to see in the open. As the sun rose and the landscape turned from pink to orange, we were treated to an incredible hunting masterclass from the long-eared owl, a short-eared owl, and at least one barn owl. Every few minutes, one species was in sight and attracting attention.

Some people opted to run back and forth, almost chasing the owls to maximize their opportunities. I decided to stay in one spot for the most part, as the owls would return repeatedly in unpredictable patterns. That morning, maybe thirty or forty photographers were lined up and calling out the owls as they appeared in view. Most people were good-natured and respectful of the wildlife, but that wasn’t always the case…

After sunrise, I spent the day hiking and looking for more wildlife in surrounding areas. In the afternoon, I returned to photograph the burrowing owl again before returning to where we’d seen the other owls. As we neared golden hour, the crowd of photographers got more extensive, and the atmosphere seemed a little more intense. Thankfully, the owls seemed remarkably affected by the people, but when rangers came to ensure people stayed off the protected marshland, things seemed to be a little edgier again.

The rangers called in the police, who had no interest in moving people along or getting involved, provided everyone behaved. This seemed to be at odds with the rangers’ plans, but a slightly uneasy peace made the experience less fun. And then the long-eared owl did something very unexpected. It perched right beside the road to rest on a very scenic log.

People seemed to lose their minds, crowding around it to take close-range photos. I wasn’t above taking a photograph, but I tried to hand back at a respectful distance. I have a hard time judging people for getting carried away in these kinds of situations because they’re genuinely excited, and I was, too, but you have to put the wildlife’s well-being first. This situation was still in that gray area of not-cool-but-not-immediately-harmful until one lady ran in front of everyone and kneeled almost within touching distance of the owl.

Immediately, a large group of photographers began yelling at the lady, and I’d say more were annoyed she was blocking their view than her proximity to the bird. The language was awful. And then the rangers decided enough was enough. They parked their truck right beside the owl and turned the sirens on. They were duty-bound to intervene, but it scared the owl too, so it was far from a graceful solution. Immediately, the crowd turned their language on the rangers, and again, it was a mix of anger at scaring the bird and ruining their opportunity to photograph it. The whole scene was quite ugly, and even though a little light was left in the sky, I decided to go.

I don’t want this to sound like I’m judging everyone there or morally superior. Let’s face it: I was in attendance, and even with the best intentions and showing some reserve in my behavior, I was part of the problem. As I drove home that evening, I was caught between the joy of seeing four different owl species in one day and the deflation from that whole encounter. It’s never the animals, always the people. Ultimately, that day was an excellent reminder to keep calm, respect the wildlife first and foremost, and be prepared to leave a good photography opportunity alone when it doesn’t feel right.

Burrowing Owl

Barn Owl

Long-eared Owl

Short-eared Owl