I’m on a roll with these transliterated bird sounds, so have a drink with me at six of an October evening and I’ll give you another. At this time of year the ritual pouring comes just as day is turning into night: the violet hour. For most birds it’s getting late and they’re already roosting, though a few have one or two last tasks to be completed. For tawny owls it’s the start of a hard night’s work.

And for just one species it’s most important part of the day: the make-and-break time that will make it either a good day or a bad one.

Sscheeeuuurrrr-ip!

Barn owl, of course. Not an easy one to imitate. Try if you like, but you won’t convince a barn owl. It doesn’t sound like a mammal and it certainly doesn’t sound like a bird. It doesn’t really sound like anything living.

They’ve been called screech owl, a name that implies a living and malevolent being. But when we want a spooky noise, for Halloween and horror film purposes, we turn to the wavering hoot of a tawny owl, a sound that usually comes out of pure darkness. Few people are familiar with the dusk-accustomed call of a barn owl call.

But there it was, a famous owl competing with a Famous Grouse, bringing not fear but joy. Somewhere out there that pale, soft-winged thing was calling to its own, ready to hunt as long there was enough pale light to see by and enough darkness to blind the rodents it was seeking.

It called again, softer this time: shhhurrrrgh! Not sinister, not at all: just spelling out the fact that the evening hour is the time of life and that autumn is the season of life. Just like all other times and all other seasons.