[mou] sharing an owl story...

[bill lane]

hi all,

my son is visiting me for christmas and of course, he has to put up with his dad's "owl thing". it has been an interesting couple of days.

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sometimes, an owlboy is all it takes.

i was reluctant to tell nikky about the saw-whet, partly because i didn't want to watch his eyes roll in disbelief over "another owl story", and partly because predicting an owl appearance sets the predictor up for the cynicism and mockery of his audience. i can do biology; i'm not too sure about shame-based biology.

no, my reluctance came from the thought of my son spending the next 20 years of his life going, "yeah right dad...a saw-whet on your deck...good one."

but something is going on beneath the snows in my back yard and so, emboldened by winter's touch, i told him about the owl on our way back from the cities. sure enough, when we clicked the light on overlooking the deck, there sat a plump saw-whet on a snow-coated aspen limb, guarding the bounty that scurried unseen beneath the feeders.

every night now for the past week, the saw-whet has made an appearance. of course, the owls' patience during its sit-and-wait hunts dwarfs our ability to sit-and-wait for something to happen. yet twice now, owlboy and i have seen a successful hunt atop the debris field of sunflower seeds. it seems anti-climatic to watch an owl fly off with a deer mouse, but given that i am sitting on a soft chair in a t-shirt and shorts, with a jotul stove stoked to the brim and...knowing the observational alternatives for an owler...i realize how fortunate our observations are.

as it turns out, the saw-whet has been but a cheap appetizer in this all you can observe owl buffet. as we prepared for the winter solstice celebration in grand marais last night, nikky (now resolutely preferring the title of saw-whet boy) told me "dad, there's a really big saw-whet in our back yard". since i was busy looking for the proper combination of unwashed clothes to wear in public, his statement didn't immediately register. then though, his emphasis was turned up a notch: "daddy...hurry up."

i moved to the window and sure enough, there was a really big saw-whet. but not just a really big saw-whet. no, it was a really normal-sized northern hawk owl. right there in our back yard; right off the deck; in plain view for me and my spawn. the saw-whet boy sat in my lap as we buzzed, then a minute later, the owl dropped like a rock to the base of the feeder, pulled out a corpulent vole, and was off.

last night as we slept, i had owl dreams. i awoke at 3, unable to sleep. i moved to the bay window and looked out over the deck. against the backlight of a weakened moon the hawk owl sat, snug against the bole of the aspen. there were no other silhouettes. the saw-whet had surrendered its place in our back yard; abdicating it's vital link to sustenance and survival.

today as i type, nikky and i are keenly aware of how wonderful it is to have these owls in this back yard with this father and son, at this moment.

the hawk owl is still here, oblivious to the chickadees and blue jays that complain about its stoic presence; oblivious to the world; oblivious to its open-mouthed observers who sit snugly next to the fire. it doesn't matter where he came from or where he goes. only that its visit coincided with the visit of my son.

owl mo-jo comes and goes. it entices and rebuffs. sometimes though, it is powerless over the presence of a child. 


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bill and nikolai lane

owlman@mindspring.com
www.mindspring.com/~owlman