Thursday, July 2, 2015

Twenty-six minutes with an owl . . .


As I lay in bed this morning, I listened to owls calling back and forth, including the unique sound of a junior owl, a sound that sounds sort of like escaping steam. He was quite close and I got up and looked out the window and saw a shape fly by and then heard a scuffling sound on the deck.

I ran into the living room and slowly looked and yes! There he was, sitting on the railing. I took a few shots with the cellphone, then realized the DSLR was right there in the bedroom, so I went and grabbed that.

You know how it is when you've not used a camera for the past few months and all of a sudden you're in a situation where you need to change the ISO, change the focus to manual, do all the things that in daylight are so easy but at dusk, and when you think the owl is going to fly away at any second and the pressure is mounting? You know that feeling?

So there I was, fumbling about, but you know, the owl didn't care. He was hungry, calling every once in a while to let his parents know where he was in case they wanted to maybe drop a rabbit down next to him, and although he looked at me (and down at Abby) a lot, he wasn't perturbed.

Up top you see the first photo I took, a silhouette (sort of) of him against Saratoga Passage in the background, and then, one of the last photos I took, 26 minutes later, just before he flew off and up into a tree.

There are those (and you know who you are, CJ) who scoff, saying I make up all this stuff about hearing things in the night. Well, ta da! Scoff no more, because here is proof that I heard this owl, found him on the deck railing (still making that weird steamy shrieking sound), and took a few (very bad) photos. Ah! The sweet taste of vindication! (And if you still don't believe me, I have Abby as a witness. I'll be happy to send her to you and she can tell you all about it. . .)

©Carol Leigh
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