Mm. Owl surprised us on Tuesday by laying a fifth egg. She stayed in the box that evening and, for the first time, we saw Mr. Owl visit the box and feed her.

Mme. Owl laid her first egg on Friday, March 12, and that is how we know the female screech owl is in the box now.

A little warmer today. Last night’s icy precipitation has coated streets, walks and driveways with a dangerous glaze. The driveway (which I attempted to shovel and clear yesterday) is a bumpy crust of snow and ice. No going outside today; too slippery, too much chance of falling. The temperature is slowly going up - 30º at 8:00 a.m. as opposed to 1º at 5:30 a.m. Monday and below 19º at 10 a.m. yesterday.

The blinds are closed, the drapes are drawn; the owl sits snugly in his box. A fine layer of ice glazes sidewalks and roads and frosts lawns and plants. Icicles drip from tree branches and plants. Leaves look like they are encased in glass.

Snow! Outside, big flakes of wet snow still falling. At any other time I would be delighted by true winter weather. Snow in Austin is cause for celebration and I am winter-deprived, but now I am just cold.

Tonight I sat outside as the sun went down, taking in the live oak trees shedding their small oval leaves and watching the screech owl poke his head out of the box. The moon was already up and almost full, an appropriate way to end the year.

A Swainson’s thrush has been visiting our backyard. These birds typically migrate through in September and October on their way to South America and are seen more often in eastern Texas, so we are lucky to see him. He’s been here a few weeks and seems to like our pond.

The male screech owl showed up on Halloween, peeking out of the owl box entrance just as it became dark. It’s a relief to finally see him; I have been waiting and wondering when – and if – he would appear. Each evening he pokes his head out about 5 p.m., preparing to take flight and leaving around 6 p.m., soaring over the fence and into the trees.

After a long, hot Texas summer with no swimming pools to cool us, we were ready to go somewhere. Anywhere. So, in this year without Yellowstone, there was Ruidoso, our escape from real life.

We finally saw the black fawn as we rode our bikes through the neighborhood. She was grazing in a corner yard shielded by tall oaks and plants with another fawn, a buck, and a doe, who must be her mother.