Guardians of the Darkness: Owls of Kabini Part 2 | Evolve Back Kabini

It is curious how in Indian folklore owls are revered but also feared. But mostly misunderstood. Our night trail along the River Kabini was making good progress. We covered the ground around the village, the fringes of the forests nearby and spotted a host of frogs and geckos in addition to some wonderful owls.

Our Naturalist from Evolve Back Kabini signalled it was almost time to head back to the resort but the nocturnal creature in me refused to turn around. To my delight the rest of the group urged the Naturalist to go on a while longer and he obliged. The wind was picking up and we strained our ears to listen to our expert nature guide. He said, “In some parts of Karnataka certain forest-fringe communities use traditional knowledge to interpret owl calls as messages. Some believe hearing an owl near one’s home signals an approaching visitor or major life event. Others associate certain owls with ancestral spirits.” It was easy to be in awe of the depth of generational wisdom here and the knowledge of the tribes.

In the east and north of India owls are associated with the goddess Lakshmi in Hindu belief, where the bird is an auspicious symbol of wisdom, vigilance, and the ability to see through darkness - metaphorically speaking. But superstition has often been unkind to them. In some rural traditions, owls have unfairly been associated with omens or black magic, because of their stealthy hunting techniques and screeching calls.

We were pleasantly surprised by the locals we met on our way out of the bushes near Kabini. Many elders remembered a time when owls were far more abundant in the neighbourhood. They went on to describe them as their “natural companions of the night”, as if to say the birds were an integral part of the rhythm of village life. Their observations align with a broader ecological truth: owls are often indicators of habitat quality. When the number of owls in an area declines, it usually means something deeper has changed. Possibly for the worst.

A surprise visitor revealed itself on our night trail just when the forest had settled into an eerie calm. A couple of sleepy common mynas were woken up rudely at this landing and their indignant cries startled us. Whatever had arrived had done so in near-total silence, a hallmark of an owl’s ghost-like flight. Our eyes strained upward, necks stretched out and bodies stiff: where was the bird? Oh there! Sure enough, the faint silhouette of the magnificent Mottled Wood Owl, perched confidently on a sturdy branch.

It looked enormous in the dim light, its broad wings and round head made it seem imposing, almost regal. The intricate mottled pattern on its plumage blended beautifully with the bark, and we realised at once why the bird is considered to be a Master of Camouflage. The large pale facial disc seemed to glow softly in the moonlight through the branches. “Look! There’s something it’s brought along.”, said my fellow birder peering through the binoculars. Clutched firmly in its talons was a rodent, still struggling to break free. We watched, transfixed, as the owl methodically fed, tearing into its prey with quiet efficiency. The calm precision of a seasoned nocturnal hunter made the forest come alive in a way that was both raw and intimate. Even the most magical scenes can be brutal at times; that is the law of the wild.

We were only 500 metres from the resort and our night trail was drawing to a close. Some of us were already discussing the highlights of the trail in hushed tones while some others were busy checking “the shots” on their cameras. As we took a turn around an open patch near cultivated land our final owl appeared, almost like a phantom. Even before we could get a clear look, its flight gave away its identity; smooth, buoyant, ghostlike. One can never mistake a Barn Owl. The classic large build, pale body with white underparts, and telltale heart-shaped face make it one of the most distinctive owls in the world. My battery had drained and in the fast fading beam of my humble torchlight, the bird appeared almost luminous.

Barn Owls thrive in farmlands, grasslands, abandoned buildings, temple towers, barns, and old village structures. They don’t mind being around humans and their diet is dominated by rodents, making them invaluable natural pest controllers.

What sets these owls apart is their extraordinary ability to hear. Their facial disc acts like a satellite dish, funneling sound directly towards their asymmetrically placed ears. This allows them to pinpoint prey with astonishing precision, even beneath grass or leaf litter, and in blinding darkness. Studies indicate that Barn Owls can hunt using sound alone under certain conditions, which feels almost unbelievable until you watch one in action.

Our individual was out on a late night hunt. He scanned the fields but could not find a suitable perch. Modern times have taken away the older trees, nesting cavities have disappeared, abandoned structures have been renovated or demolished. To add to this a steady rise in the use of pesticides has reduced the availability of prey around agricultural areas.

Of course, the night did not belong to birds alone.

Near the river and muddy edges of pathways, frogs were everywhere. Tiny ones clung to wet leaves, while larger frogs sat boldly in puddles as if posing for photographs. Their calls formed an almost hypnotic soundscape throughout the trail. Some chirped rapidly, others produced low repeated croaks, and together they created the pulse of the night.

And then there were the geckos.

Village walls, temple stones, tree trunks, even abandoned structures—everywhere we pointed our lights, a gecko seemed to appear out of thin air. Most were busy hunting insects drawn to artificial lights. In many ways, geckos are the village equivalent of tiny dragon hunters, maintaining insect balance around human settlements.

Perhaps that is what made this trail so memorable. The learning that came with the sighting. It wasn’t solely about spotting wildlife. It was about briefly entering a parallel world that comes alive every night whether or not we notice it. A world of ghostly wings, glistening slugs, clicking geckos, chorusing frogs, and eyes reflecting torchlight from impossible places.
By dawn, these creatures would retreat, invisible once again. But for a few magical hours, the night belonged entirely to them.

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