The holocaust of the owls

For many years I collected owls. At one point in Stevenage we had an "owl tree". In Coton, they sat upon shelves and the mantlepiece and the display cabinet. Eventually I stopped adding to them, and they remained, slowly aging and getting dusty. I rarely looked at them because I knew them all.

 

But when we moved - and somewhat earlier, in truth - it became clear that there were too many of them, and a cull was needed. I failed to cull in advance, so they all moved, and I've now culled quite a few. Here are the ones that didn't make the cut.

The one I'll note for future memories is the "three owls on a branch" that I bought on my long walk through France; and which I then copied with the scroll saw when Daniel was small. I parted with those reluctantly.