May 17, 2018

May 17, 2018

Around 8:30 p.m. on May 13, Owlet number 1 has stuffed his fluffy body in the box entrance as his siblings peck at his tail and pull on his feathers, wanting to be where he is, see what he sees.  Venturing outside the box onto the perch, the owlet dances back and forth, lifts its wings and flies to a nearby tree, never touching the ground.  Its two siblings huddle in the box, staring at the entrance, hopping up and down, searching for a way out. 

Last night Owlets numbers 1 and 2 were both up there in his place, standing on the perch surveying the world around them.  One of the parents flew up and perched at the end of the rod, encouraging them.  What are they thinking?  Their whole world has been that box.  And the parents – what goes through their minds?  They call to the owlets from their perches in the oak tree and still bring food.  They know their job.  They will continue to feed their young outside the box where the little owlets hide in between leaves and branches.

Once out of the box, Owlet number 2 flies pretty quickly with a little nudging from a parent.  He flutters his wings and floats to the ground, landing near the bird bath.  The third owlet looks back into the box and waits.

This morning the floor of the box is stomped down, feathers and sawdust pounded by little bird feet.  The third owlet is gone.  If we look hard and carefully, we will see the owls in the trees or if we are even luckier, drinking from the bird bath.

Christine Baleshta


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