Last week, I drove home from school, backed the truck into its usual parking space and walked into the house. My husband met me at the door, my camera in his hand.
“I’m surprised it didn’t fly away!” he exclaimed.
“What? Fly away? Who?” I asked.
“The owl! You parked right under him. Got out of the truck, it watched you walk in the house. He’s been here a couple of hours, stalking the front yard.
I ran to the window and there he was . .
A Barred Owl!
David told me how, before I’d gotten home, he’d taken quite a few photos through the window, for fear of scaring it away. The owl watched the front yard for awhile. Napped at times, too. Then it landed on top the bird feeder.
“Did it try to catch my songbirds?” I looked out to see the chickadees, nuthatches and mourning doves chowing down on the sunflower seeds in the feeders.
“No, it was only interested in the squirrels. In fact, it landed on top a hole in the snow to wait for one to come out. All the while, your birds kept feeding.”
I decided I’d try to sneak out the side door to snap a few outside photos.
He let me take about twenty or so, before spreading his wings.
I thought I’d scared him away . . .
Until he landed in a tree only a few feet away.
The sun sunk lower behind the trees, the song birds flew off to find their nighttime perch, and still the owl sat on the branch watching the front lawn.
All in all, he hung out on the front lawn from noon-ish until 4pm. I hoped he’d find dinner, so he would return often. But alas, I don’t believe he did. Not while I was watching anyway.
Now I can’t help but look up into the branches of my big maple tree whenever I pass under it, hoping he’ll visit again.