At 4:12 a.m., I was sitting at my computer, thinking I'd blog about Kristen Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, when I heard a great horned owl calling. I ran downstairs (in the dark -- crazy, I know, but I didn't want to alert it by turning on a light), and popped outside, where I stood barefoot, in my PJs and bathrobe, listening as a second owl responded, and then a third! I knew they were different birds, as the voice of the first bird, the caller, was slightly higher than the second bird, the responder. The third bird called from somewhere south, but never flew closer to join his comrades.
Temperature was close to 58 degrees, with a light wind blowing from the south. I got cold after 18 minutes and came inside, as it seemed the calls were becoming fainter. I'd hung in, hoping they'd fly west, directly over the house, but they must have flown east, where the eating is better.
4:39 a.m. and they're still calling! (Renee. Come. Out...Renee. Come Out.) I worry a lot about these birds, but tonight, at least, my faith in their future is restored.
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7 comments:
I'd be out there in the cold, too. When we were camping up in Mendocino years ago, I'd hear spotted owls calling to each other across the gulch we were in. Magic.
Lakin, heard them again this morning just before 5 a.m. And again I was outside in my PJs, bare feet on concrete, hoping they'd fly over. Magic is just the right word.
There were some barn owls that lived in the belfry of the Catholic Church a few blocks away. As night fell, they'd launch and then wing in widening circles around the tower, over all our backyards. Surreal to see their swift white shapes swinging across the dark sky. They've moved on-the church was tired of cleaning up the mess and the owl pellets and blocked the entrances to the belfry-but I miss them. Though I'm sure the rodents don't!
Lakin, my daughter and I were at Staples the other day to pick up office supplies. We noticed they've inserted small metal "spears" into the letters of the store's name so swallows won't build their nests there (spears are dull, but still...). Sad and maddening, all at the same time.
I had a cockatiel call out my name in perfect english today while cleaning its cage. It said Mike. Weird.
Especially because your name is apparently Huey! Thanks for sharing, H...
Huey is not my real name. Just an alias.
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