Extract

Have you ever been squashed inside an egg? I have. I waited and waited for something to happen and became more and more squished. Occasionally I’d get knocked or rocked. Sometimes I’d get really warm when my Mam sat on the egg.

One day I didn’t seem to have much room any more. My beak was pressing against the inner surface of the egg. First I scratched, then I started a stabbing motion, then I pecked. My beak made a great tap-tapping sound. Then I pecked and pecked some more and created a hole to look through. I could see feathered bodies and our nest. Nobody told me off. So I came out and joined the exciting world.

My home was a barn and I loved it! Full of dust motes and animal smells, it was great! I was up high in a nest on top of one of the old oak beams. I wasn’t alone. My big brothers Igor and Grizzle were near me and they allowed me to snuggle beside them, at first.

I remember my parents had honey coloured plumage with grey and white marks, like stitching across their backs. Mam had a few more streaks on her back and her chest was pure white with a few spots. Dad was a buff-brown with darker spots. Their creamy heart-shaped faces became lovingly familiar as they came at regular intervals and fed us frogs, mice or my favourite: shrew. They told us stories about the world out there, beyond the barn, the wonderful night flights spent hunting for food and the dangers that we owls faced.

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