I often lie in bed at night listening to the owls talking back and forth from the woodland to the valley and there is something so nostaligic and reminiscent of childhood and it's stories of wise old owls with the wisest of the owls usually illustrated as the tawny which I often hear but rarely see. Occasionally though, I am lucky enough to see a barn owl by the headlights of my car, settled on a post or swooping across the hedgerows.. One spectacularly bright, moonlit night I went for a walk along the country lanes and passing over the brow of the hill the view was like a box of chocolates to my eyes! Living in the middle of the English countryside it is always a privilege to be able to see it by moonlight and on this particular night there was a storm blowing in and I could hear an owl in the distance and on the horizon, small as a pinprick, I saw it put to flight.
This painting is a note of that particularly beautiful night and memory.
Oil on canvas