Owl Visits

They are in the trees by 8:15 p.m.  It’s best if fresh water is in the birdbath before 8.  But I’ve been late before, and as I walk out to the birdbath in the middle of the yard where with a full watering can of fresh water, the little gray screech owls watch me.  Silently, but in an approving, patiently waiting way.  I speak softly in sweet tones to them as they watch me dump out the dirty-bird water, rinse the bath and fill it with fresh, cool water, just waiting for them to enjoy

Almost always they come down for the first drink at 8:20 – you can set your clock by it. 

They spend at least a minute looking on all sides before daring to dip their beak down into the water.  They drink dipping their face straight down into the water, then curving their heads in an upward motion.  So graceful and magnificent.

Completely quiet in flight, you won’t hear them coming.  You have to be watching for them or you’ll miss them.   However I have learned to discern the sound of their “screech”, a misnomer I think.  It sounds more like a high pitched but soft and distant cat purr that dips into low notes before it ends.   Almost imperceptible but once you know what to listen for you can catch it.

Most summers we are lucky to see one owl once or twice during the summer.  But with the severe drought this year they have become regulars.  Most nights there are two of them, but once we had three at a time and one evening we saw four of them perched on the edge of the birdbath.  Amazing.

I think the two regulars are father and son.  The big one loves to take a bath.  After spending 4 or 5 minutes alternately drinking and watching, he’ll dip a foot farther into the bath.  Then he glides into the center and before he’s done he will have completely immersed his head several times, his tail, his full wings and is delightful dripping when he flies up to the branch to dry and groom.  At that point the little one lands or resumes drinking in earnest, but so far I’ve not seen him take a bath.

These silent, pretty, graceful creatures are fascinating to me.  They captivate me with they way they watch their surroundings and are so quick to turn or react to sounds I can’t hear.   The year I feel as if they are listening to me when I speak to them; I even saw one cock his head as I spoke while filling the bowl.  I know they’ll be gone soon but in the meantime you can find me out on my back porch each evening by 8:15.  Watching, and enjoying.