Night Visitor

     I woke up about four this morning to a calling owl: "Who who who-who?  Who who who-who?" Over and over, with undertones of the sound of someone blowing air across the open top of a big ceramic jug, questioning and slightly spooky.  The sounds were deep enough to be a Great Horned Owl, but the pattern is more like the Barred Owl.

     We've had a family of owls in the neighborhood for several years.  In the spring and summer, they make an assortment of sounds that remind me of tropical birds, and I have seen them holding flying lessons for young owls in our alley, swooping from one power pole to the next.

     It's a gift to have these raptors in our neighborhood.  When I was young, any kind of owl or hawk was a rare sight.  Little screech owls would occasionally use the patio of my parents' house to stride around and raise a ruckus, but it was uncommon.  They've come back and now I often see red-tailed hawks at the North Campus and a half-dozen big, black vultures that soar over the intersection of Kessler and College Avenues in the evenings.