We have five species of owl living in mainland Britain, but at this time of year you could be forgiven for thinking there was only one. During October and November, tawny owls make more noise than the other four species put together.

And all the extra shrieking, hooting and "kee-wick"-ing is down to one thing – territory. Young birds are reaching maturity and looking for new homes, while older birds are fighting to hold on to their patch.

Ordinarily, adult tawny owls are devoted parents. They spend much of the summer months rearing, feeding and nurturing. This care even continues for weeks after the young have fledged. But in autumn there is a brutal change. The devotion turns to aggression, and the adult birds round on their once-beloved young.

They shriek at them, fly at them and chase them out of their territory. I have seen one juvenile so badly battered that he had cuts from his face to his feet.

And, as if this isn't enough, the young owls are then pushed from one owl's domain to another during their search for a place to set up home.

Even when these young male owls hoot to try to attract a mate, they end up alerting adult owls to their presence and get short shrift for daring to encroach on established territory.

Tawny owls are our most common and widespread owl, but in spite of the racket they make, they can be a surprisingly elusive bird, especially when breeding.

Although less common, barn owls are more visible because they hunt on the wing, often at dusk.

Tawny owls, meanwhile, are mainly nocturnal and sit hidden under the cloak of darkness, usually on a perch on a tree, a fence post, or a telegraph pole, and plunge down silently to catch their prey.

They are equally secretive at the nest site. I have tried photographing them from a hide, but they have an annoying habit of diving headlong into a nest hole, and I have plenty of useless pictures of a bird's rear end
as it disappears.

Some time ago, in order to study these secretive birds close up for a picture I was planning for my winter exhibition, I put up a nest box in a line of sycamore trees about 90 yards from
my home and gallery, in Thixendale, North Yorkshire. The box was taken up almost immediately by a handsome pair.

Originally woodland birds, tawny owls have adopted new and more open habitat, often muscling in on the traditional haunts of the
barn owl.

Tawny owls are extremely versatile hunters, which is why they are so successful. Britain is home to around 100,000 pairs. Their diet consists largely of small mammals, like wood mice, but they will eat almost anything they can catch. Birds, frogs, fish, worms, large insects and small rabbits are all on the menu. They will even scavenge
road-kill.

I decided to take advantage of this and began to put mice and road-kill pheasant on my bird table at night. More traditional seed mixes were still available for my common garden birds by day.

The ploy proved more successful than I had expected. As well as attracting the tawny owl couple, I have also attracted kestrels and barn owls.

These birds of prey now feed just nine metres from my kitchen window, which makes photographing them much easier.

I am used to watching my wildlife subjects while cramped in a hide, half-way up a tree, in the freezing cold. But now I can study these birds from the comfort of my kitchen – although my wife does complain that the house is a bit on the chilly side as I keep the window open most of the night so that I can photograph them.

I've also put in infrared sensors that beep to announce the arrival of a visitor. And the birds don't seem to mind a 500w security light that I rigged up with a dimmer switch so that I can see them better at night.

Illuminated, it is fascinating to watch the owls interacting with each other.

Unusually, the barn owl seems to be in charge. It's a much smaller bird and is outnumbered at my bird table two to one. I have seen tawny owls attacking barn owls before. But this Yorkshire Wolds barn owl must be tougher than the lowland birds I have watched.

Last week, I switched on the light to see the tawny owl pair sharing a post, preening one another.

This tenderness is something I'd never witnessed before.

Normally, the female is snatching the male's food from him, even though
there is plenty for both of them. Sensibly, he always gives way, although not without an angry hoot and a screech.

My new "bird of prey feeding station" is now a key part of the tawny owls' territory and they defend it fiercely from others. I'm often woken at this time of year with violent fights on our rooftop.

It makes me feel a little sorry for the young interlopers who are only trying to make their own way in life. But I don't expect they stand a chance against this well-bonded
pair.

On still, frosty nights, the male's hoots ring out down the valley and are often answered by neighbouring owls and interrupted by the bark of a fox or the eerie screech of a barn owl.

Robert Fuller's new exhibition opens next Saturday (Nov 15) at Fotherdale Farm, Thixendale, North Yorkshire. Tel: 01759 368 355, www.robertEFuller.com