What a Hoot 🦉

It was the cusp of dawn. The owls rested in the boughs of the old beech trees after a busy night terrorising innocent field mice and voles.
Like a night shift heading home, their casual conversation echoed around the forest - boasting over the size of their catch, telling jokes and dropping pearls of wisdom. But the rising sun marked an appropriate time to hand the world back to humans for another normal day. Thus off to breakfast and contented contemplation of a good night’s work. Meanwhile the surviving voles and field mice could relax a bit following another anxious night.