January 12

Our son called down to us from his bedroom just before dinner, as the fading twilight made it still possible to see into the woods from his bedroom window. He had spotted a barred owl not 40 feet from his window, just inside the border woods on the north side of the house. The own was perched on a bare branch of the large white pine that dominates this portion of the woods. It was sitting still, occasionally turning its head to and fro, I suspect searching for its own dinner vole or even rabbit.

We hear the owls particularly this time of year, either in the early morning as they call to one another or in the evening twilight. The horned owl is the more familiar, with its comical “who who” call and repeated answer. I once had a conversation of sorts with a horned owl in the early predawn last fall. It started a call from far away in the lower woods, and I answered from the back porch. Back and forth we went for nearly five minutes, with the owl moving closer and closer every so often, as it tried to figure out what sort of relation I was. I have to admit that I took a little conceit that my call had garnered such an official curiosity.

The barred owl is another thing altogether. Its call has been described as a kind of “who cooks for you,” and this does capture the essence. I’ve tried calling to the barred owls when I’ve heard them in the woods, but I suppose my dialect for barred isn’t up to par.

From my son’s window, we could see both the owl and a short distance through the woods the road that passes before our house. Just then, a person came walking up the road, and we watched the owl slowly and silently track the passerby with its head. The walker was unaware of this beautiful creature so close by, just as I suspect that the owl was unaware of our watching it from our window.