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Michael straddling a branch and wielding power tools, and my dad
hugging the tree trunk
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This past December when I returned to my family’s home in
George I had an overwhelming urge to take on a project. I’m all for
lounging at the pool, trips to the beach, boozy lunches, extended
dinners and afternoon naps, but this holiday season I wanted to produce
something tangible, some kind of material proof that my holiday had
consisted of more than an extended hedonistic haze. In a moment of
inspiration it came to me: an owl house!
There are several large trees on my parent’s extensive property and
the garden is a smorgasbord of seeding flowers, vegetables, fruit and
insects. I’ve spotted knysna loeries, sunbirds, weavers and all manner
of feathered creatures flitting among the shrubs and trees. Birds of
prey, however, hold a special magnetism. Occasionally I’ve spotted a
hawk swooping low onto a branch in the corner of the garden, perhaps
hoping that my dad’s chickens had ventured from their coop. Late at
night, when all is perfectly still and the streetlights glow eerily
through the leaves, in the witching hour, you may be lucky to hear the
hoot of an owl; and the chill that goes down your spine is perhaps very
much like the chill going down tiny rodent spines quivering in the
underbrush.
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| Showing
great judgement, I opted to stay on the ground and hold the ladder. |
The first order of business was securing some kind of blueprint and
basic instructions – fortunately these are readily available online
(you can access a very nice guide at
http://www.birdlife.org.za).
My online research revealed that there were in fact two basic designs
for owl houses in South Africa, a closed box with a single, round
opening or a more open box with slats on all four sides. Barn owls,
being used to roosting in rocky crevices, hollow trees and other dark
nooks, prefer the closed box design, whereas spotted eagle owls, which
roost on ledges or tree branches, like to have a room with a view. I had
seen a spotted eagle owl in the large trees in front of the yard from
time to time, so we opted for the open design.
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| my dad
hugging the tree trunk |
I say “we” because I had enlisted the help of my brother-in-law, an
engineer with an artistic eye and general dexterity when it comes to
design and construction – basically someone who was far less likely than
me to nail his thumb to a plank. Armed with our plans, we headed off to
the hardware store for our materials, only to discover that wood had
become ridiculously expensive. We settled for a few screws and a tin of
varnish to protect our owl house from the elements. Back at home we
raided my dad’s garage for old planks of untreated wood (treated wood
contains insecticide that can be bad for your owls). I focused on
cutting the planks to measure without removing any of my own
extremities, while my brother-in-law, Michael, handled design and
construction duties.In no time at all we had the basic structure
together. After a few layers of varnish (outside only, it’s important to
keep chemicals away from the owls), and our cabin was looking rather
cosy for a couple of feathered lygophiliacs (those who love the dark).
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| We had identified a spot on a branch about five or six
meters |
The next phase was getting our owl house into the tree at the front
of the yard. We had identified a spot on a branch about five or six
meters up that would be perfect (first rule of real estate: location,
location, location). I had cut my foot a few days earlier, so it was up
to Michael to shimmy up the tree. My dad helped out as well, positioning
himself on a branch about halfway up to our targeted spot. Showing
great judgement, I opted to stay on the ground and hold the ladder. With
Michael straddling a branch and wielding power tools, and my dad
hugging the tree trunk, we hoisted up the surprisingly heavy owl house –
it was all rather precarious to say the least. Nevertheless, it wasn’t
long before our owl house was secure in the tree and we were all down
safely on the ground, gaping up at our work with big smiles.
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| all rather precarious to say the least |
My brother is a big believer in the idea of “build it and they will
come”. When we were small Eckart cut off most of his own hair, as well
as my sister’s (still in diapers) and mine so that he could build a nest
outside “for the eagles”. Apparently something he had seen on MacGyver.
In any event, you can imagine my mom wasn’t too pleased, particularly
as my baby sister had only just grown enough hair to form her first,
tiny ponytail. Standing on the lawn with Michael and my dad, perhaps
there was a little part of me that hoped an owl would swoop right in,
check out our handiwork, and settle down. Unfortunately it seems the
slump in the real estate market has reached further than I had
anticipated. Of course, I can accept that the owl house will need a few
months to weather a little, for the smell of varnish to dissipate and
the structure to blend more naturally into its surroundings. So, for
now, we wait for the first occupants of Fairview Historic Homestead’s
“room with a view”.
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Michael straddling a branch and wielding power tools, and my dad
hugging the tree trunk
copyright reserved |
The B&B Coach says: get your children (and husband) to give input into what they think would make the B&B more enjoyable for your guests - you may be pleasantly surprised with what they come up with!
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