Dad was scouting out the location for a dugout in a low, willowy area near our new cow pasture. As he was walking around in the willows, a Boreal Owl flew up from a branch in front of him and landed a few yards away in another willow tree. He phoned home and told my sister Lois. She hurried up with her camera.
I was at the pasture when I heard there was an owl in the vicinity, so I quickly went home and got my camera also.
I crossed the creek and tiptoed into the willows. Dad had already left, but Lois certainly had not. She pointed upward. Yes, there was the little owl all right, sitting comfortably on a branch with one foot pulled up into his feathers, and not at all disturbed by a couple of people peering at him through their viewfinders. A group of chickadees and a Black-and-white Warbler flitted around him, going “Chit chit chit!” He paid no attention to them.
He was pretty comical. He would turn his head all the way to one side and solemnly study Lois and me as we sat in the tall grass and studied him. Then he would yawn, blink and wink his huge eyes, and pretend to go to sleep.
I rustled my hand in the grass once to make him open his eyes for a picture, and what a change came over him! No longer was he a mild, sleepy little owl, but an alert hunter! His eyes opened wide and the pupils dilated rapidly. He bent his body horizontally from the branch and stared intensely at the place where my hand was. What a gaze! Lois said he looked ready to dive-bomb me at any second. When I stopped rustling, he relaxed back into his sleepy pose.
We inched closer and closer to get better pictures, and he didn’t mind in the least. He kept on blinking affably and, in general, was an excellent photo subject. We finally left him to his afternoon nap and went home with many pictures.
That was an amazing experience. Occasionally we hear an owl hooting in the forest, or see one sitting in the very tip top of a tree, but standing in front of one and being able to study it so closely was a new one for us.