Community Expressions Magazine
One warm night in June our son hustled us outside to see a most enchanting sight. For months we had heard an owl hooting from deep within the thick wooded portions of our property.
We live in the Lee Park area of Columbus, on a large wooded lot. Seeing hawks, deer, raccoons, possums and even a woodchuck is not uncommon, but owls are rare. We had thought our feathered neighbor had moved on because lately the woods had been silent and lonesome.
Even though it was 8:30 at night the light was good enough to see not one but three owls silhouetted against the sky, 30 feet above us on the edge of our roof. Two large owls with a smaller one between them stared down at us with the sharp look of disdain only owls can give.
We actually did not realize we had two adults patrolling our woods and certainly did not know they had hatched an owlet.
We stood quiet as mice in the cool dusk and watched Mama and Papa give flying lessons to a very dubious chick. We heard them clicking to encourage him and saw his many false starts.
The parents flew to a large live oak on the edge of the woods and urged Junior to join them with clicks and short hoots. He was quite happy where he was, thank you very much. The sharp calls grew louder and more pointed until finally their offspring unfolded his wings and flapped unenthusiastically to a tree six feet from the house.
Something did not suit him among the foliage and twigs of the redbud tree and almost immediately Junior flew back to our roof. The sharp hoots began with gusto upon his retreat, first from Mama on a lower branch of the oak, then from Papa higher up. He tried to ignore his parents by turning his back and walking like a top-heavy chicken further up the roof.
Mama and Papa were not so easily put off. They flew to the roof and wedged the sulky owlet between them on the edge. Junior was the picture of misery as he seemed to shrink inside his feathery coat. The downy feathers stuck up along his head like a kid with a spike haircut.
Although we did not see the parents move a muscle or say a word, the pressure finally got to their reluctant flyer. With a peep of resignation, Junior suddenly launched himself from the roof and flew toward the live oak. It was like watching a lead balloon set sail. We found ourselves straining to help keep him aloft. Slowly the stubby wings flapped noisily as he flew over our heads and crash landed on a limb of the big tree. Both parents joined him and seemed to display owl-y pride in their Graduate. Junior held his head high and appeared to strut as he hopped along the limb. We wanted to cheer and clap but also did not want to disrupt the moment.
As dusk gave way to darkness, and we could no longer see the family, the three of us slipped away inside to regale each other with the delights we had witnessed. For live action, drama, comedy and victory, we had just seen the greatest show in town.
This article first appeared in Community Expressions Magazine.
