Owls in the Family

I think every Canadian kid has read Owls in the Family by Farley Mowat at least once since it was first published in 1961. It is the hilarious story of Billy who finds two abandoned great horn owlets in the barn on his family’s Saskatchewan farm. Although it is a children’s novel, adult will get a chuckle out of it, too, and you should put it on your list of books to read if you haven’t already.

Last night I watched a program about great horned owls on CBC’s The Nature of Things. I have always admired owls, and now I have a greater respect for them. Their ability to maneuver through branches and tight spaces is nothing short of spectacular, and their individuality comes through in their various calls and clucks.

In the woods at the end of our subdivision at least one great horned owl lives. We hear them often in the summertime, and occasionally one will perch on a lamppost at dusk this time of year. Too far away and too dark for a photograph I just watch this majestic bird and marvel at its wingspan and silent flight when it takes off.  However, this summer I spotted a great grey owl on a fence post in the middle of the day and was able to capture him. Whether he is a resident or was just travelling through remains to be seen.

I do have pictures of great horned owls, though. While on a spring road trip in southern Alberta in 2009 we spotted one on a nest in a tree right along the road. And when mama flew to the next tree over three little fuzzy heads peeked out of the nest. Even though I used my zoom lens to take these photographs I will probably never get that close to Alberta’s provincial bird again and feel very fortunate to have had this encounter.

On our Ontario vacation in the fall last year we visited the Wye Marsh Wildlife Centre in Midland. In their raptor rehabilitation area we met Alice, a six-year-old tawny owl. Even though tawny owls are not found in the wild in North America she is a sweet little ambassador for the centre. Her handler allowed us to touch her, and her feathers were so soft.

Looking for quotations about owls this one came up time and again and was attributed to various people, from an African proverb (without the last sentence) to Charles M. Schulz. Who knows who said it first? The wisdom remains:

A wise old owl sat on an oak. The more he saw the less he spoke. The less he spoke the more he heard. Why can’t we all be like that bird?