A hopeful visitor arrives

     Yesterday morning while my husband was cutting wood by our shed he couldn’t help but pause after hearing a chatter of noise from overhead. Birds from all over seemed to be in a fit of rage. A flock of ravens circled overhead, making infuriating caws as if sounding a distress signal. The “Jay! Jay!” calls of Blue Jays as they  hopped from tree limb added to the enemble. Curious and a bit annoyed by all the chatter, my husband put down his maul, looked up and dropped his jaw at what he saw.  Fifteen yards above him sat a beautiful Barred Owl, one that didn’t seem to be at all affected by the other birds trying to scare it away, or my husband watching it so closely. After observing this new visitor for a few minutes, my husband ran to the house to get me. “Honey! Get your camera! There’s an owl right by the house!”

A barred owl stopped by yesterday morning to bask in the sun while keeping a watchful eye on the bird feeders. For this owl to be in such an open spot (only several feet away from my husband cutting wood) and hunting during the day is an act of desperate measures, a likely theme for many species of wildlife this winter.

    I walked through the snow to the shed as fast as I could. Seeing an owl so close in the daylight is a rare sight and I hoped it hadn’t flown away already. I saw it and immediately smiled.  Owls always take my breath away, no matter how many times I encounter one. Because they are most active at night, they are hardly seen by humans in most areas. Their silent flight capabilities and skilled hunting abilities make them majestic creatures of the night. But this owl also made my heart sink as I knew it was here as an act of stretched instinct. It was an act of desperate measures.

    The fact that my husband and I stood just yards away from it was a sign this owl had more on its mind than its own safety. It’s hard to tell from all of its soft feathers, but I knew the owl was hungry and stressed.  Its head turned towards the lake. Several yards down the hill the bird feeders were alive with chickadees, blue jays and nuthatches feeding their faces full of rich, fatty food. Looking at the owls eyes slowly open and close, I suddently felt sorry for it. This winter has been a cold and snowy one. It must be difficult for an owl to stalk and pounce on its prey so far under the snow. And I couldn’t help but assume by the look on its face it was also trying to soak up every ounce of the sun’s weak winter rays. How much cold can an owl take?

This very hungry Barred Owl seemed to be eagerly basking in the sun's rays

       This week the temperatures are not expected to get above zero. My husband and I have prepared for these next weeks by gathering more wood into our home, and my car just had a block heater installed in it. It seems easy for as as humans to survive in such a harsh winter environment, but I wonder if this owl will make it. Last winter I observed a distressed Barred Owl similar to this one sit above bird feeders in the middle of the afternoon. It died just a few days later of starvation. I am torn between hoping my bird feeders will give it that last-chance opportunity, but at the same time hoping the little birds don’t get preyed on because of the feeders, but how much am I playing with nature? While I contemplate my actions of feeding the little birds, I will keep my eye out for our unlikely daytime visitor and hope it survives.