The one in DC is finding plenty to eat--rats and pigeons--and is reported to be "doing marvelously." It's also been spotted at the National Mall and at Reagan National Airport, as well as on the roof of a house in the area and atop a church.
Snowy owls like to congregate on the tarmac here in Boston at Logan Airport, not a safe place for them to hang out. My husband once went on a local Audubon Society birding trip to the marsh surrounding Logan's runways to spot them. They're gorgeous creatures, and I look forward to one day seeing one myself some day.
Owls aren't rare but they're hard to spot because they're nocturnal. And spend a lot of of their time standing absolutely still and blending in with their surroundings. They can turn their heads nearly all the way around with nary a ruffled feather. Your best chance of spotting one is at dusk when they start to hunt for food.
I vividly remember the first owl I ever saw. We were traveling with a guide in Trinidad (I think) and our driver stopped and pointed out a good sized owl sitting absolutely still on the post of a fence bordering a field. I never would have spotted it myself. We stopped and got out. Trained our binoculars on it. It took off. Majestic. Flapping its broad wings more like a moth than a bird. What a sight.
Elf owls are at the other end of the spectrum.
They're tiny, sparrow-sized with enormous amber eyes. One roosted in a telephone pole across the road from our motel room in Madera Canyon, south of Tucson, and at dusk every night we'd stand out on the road with all the other birders at the motel, waiting for that bird to pop up in its hole. Some people brought powerful flashlights. Dirty pool, in my opinion. But the owl didn't seem to mind.
This is the tree across the street from our house which had been home to screech owls until this last fall's storm took down the tree branch above their nesting hole. But I have this picture to remember them by.
And here's' the fantastic Halloween mask my daughter made this year -- a tribute to owls. So wonderfully creepy, like a real owl, the head rotates 180 degrees.
Wishing all of you at least one owl spotting in your life. Maybe it will be a ghostly barn owl or a grand snowy or a truly comical burrowing owl (they pop up up on long legs from their roadside burroughs to inspect passers-by). Or make your way down to Madera Canyon and you'll surely see that elf owl... along with a scores of humming birds and woodpeckers and, if you're lucky, a magnificent trogon or two.
I'd love to hear if there's a bird that's found a home in your memory.
