There was a commotion coming from the meadow. First I saw two Red Kites swooping around an oak tree, obviously in a state of excitement. Suddenly, they appeared to dislodge something from the tree which fell to the grass below. I quickly saw it was an owl. I ran over and prevented the attack continuing. Eventually, the two kites flew off, but remained circling above spying their potential prey. The owl had now run off, literally, since it obviously couldn't fly. The poor thing then got caught up in some brambles. I couldn't leave it there at the mercy of the Kites so I went and picked it up. It was surprisingly sanguine about this and didn't struggle. I carefully put it in a box and called the RSPCA. After calling several numbers, I realised they couldn't really help me. The owl was OK physically, evidenced by it's half flights around my kitchen. After further consultations, it was decided the best thing to do was carefully put it back where it had come from (and now the Kites were nowhere to be seen). This we did. Me and the owl looked at each other as I walked away. There was some connection (again, who knows what). I felt quite emotional and I just hoped he, or she, would be found by mom and be alright.