Random Thursday: Other Feathered Things

It’s Random Thursday again!  On Thursday this time, just for kicks.  I thought I’d continued the theme of feathered friends, but these particular friends weren’t in my own yard. . . and were more tolerant than friendly.

On Memorial Day this year we had the opportunity to visit the cabin of a family friend in the mountains near the Utah/Idaho border.  While my husband helped to stain the wood of the cabin I did my best to avoid the fumes by wandering around with the camera that I was still borrowing from my sister.  My husband pointed me in the direction of a line of trees (shown above) where a family of Great Horned Owls resided.  The mother and father had flown off before we arrived.  Probably hunting.  The two babies were staying close to home and watched us pretty closely. 

Owls don’t flit.  Even baby owls.  They glide.  And the kids and my husband watched this little guy glide down into the grass near an old fence.  He blended in beautifully, clever little owl, but didn’t seem too upset when I snuck up close to snap a photo.  But not too close.  Have you seen the talons on these things?  Luckily my sister had packed her zoom lens for me, so the baby owl and I both felt relatively comfortable in our respective personal spaces.

Emphasis on relatively.  Here he changed hiding places.  Well, he moved over a couple of feet and up to a fence rail.  I’m not sure if owl expressions are similar to human expressions, so I’m not certain whether this was surprise that I’d figured out his new hiding place so quickly, or annoyance that I’d found his new hiding place so quickly.  Or maybe he was perfectly aware that the void between two rails of a fence isn’t necessarily a stealth hiding spot even if your feathers blend into the old wood beautifully.  In any case, it didn’t seem to be an “Oh good, you found me!” expression so I decided he’d probably tolerated me long enough and I left to pester his brother a bit.

So about now you may be asking how I know that these baby owls were brothers and not sisters.  I don’t.  It’s completely unfounded.  But it’s the same way dogs were always boys when I was little, and cats were girls, and in French chairs are girls (or feminine anyway) and in Italian “hands” are feminine even though the word “mano” ends in an “o”.  Big Great Horned Owls just automatically seem like boys to me, when I think of them at all.  And that might be the randomness that makes this post appropriate for a Thursday.

 My son named this guy Soren, after the owl hero in one of his favorite series of books.  Soren was a Great Horned Owl as well, and his coloring was very similar.  This savvy little baby owl decided that instead of trying to hide on the ground somewhere, he’d hide in plain site on a tree branch where nobody could reach him even if they could see him.  It was remarkably effective.  He was a little tricky to spot among the branches.  He was absolutely beautiful, and strangely majestic considering his young age.  I’ve never really thought much about owls, but having the chance to observe them so closely in their home has definitely made me an admirer.

Coming soon – a report on our Bits of Ivory Design Team & Friends evening of card making!

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Barbara Anne Williams
Bits of Ivory
available at CuddlyBuddly