For nigh on a thousand years the parish church of St Oswald at Horton has withstood storm, pestilence, political and religious upheaval and provided shelter for its flock.  It's an icon of the village and appears in almost every representation of Horton as well as countless thousands of happy holiday snaps.  Just recently its tower, squat and solid like a prop forward, has become the home of a new generation of immigrants who seemingly don't mind the occasional change ringing of the peal of bells housed on the new steel frame in the belfry.  These immigrants were once far more common hereabouts and their screeching call could be heard often on clear summer nights as they patrolled the meadows and pastures seeking small furry things to satisfy a growing brood.

Our new barn owls have at least two chicks and all four birds are now seen regularly around the lower end of the village.  Let's hope that this is a sign that this rare and beautiful creature is making a long overdue comeback to Horton.  There are barns aplenty to provide safe nesting sites and judging by the number of voles and shrews my cats leave around the house (not all dead) there is good foraging here.  They make a very welcome complement to the more often seen and heard tawny owls and the little owl that sometimes sits watching me from the vantage of my barn roof.

It's a cracking morning, bright sunny with just a smear of high cloud and no wind.  The river is still flowing well and the Tarn is crystal clear.  I'm out on Thursday morning showing a new member around the fishery so he should hopefully see it at its summer best.

Ian