"It was imprudent of us, in the first place, to become authors. We could have become something regular, but we managed not to.
We were lucky, but we were also determined." Roy Blount Jr

"I don’t change the facts to enhance the drama. I think of it the other way round, the drama has got to fit the facts,
and it’s your job as a writer to find the shape in real life."
Hilary Mantel

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Is this what owls do for a living?

That's the question my husband posed, after a day and night of owl-watching.

Shakespeare spent the entire night perched on his favourite hemlock branch. He was there at midnight, when we went to bed. (I pointed our giant flashlight on him to make sure.)

He was still there this morning, his feathers fluffed way out. It was snowing lightly. That's when I took the picture below.

As usual, he sat there calmly--until I flung the bread crumbs and cracked corn for the doves and bluejays and juncoes. He swept across the front yard to his oak tree perch. It was about 10:00 a.m. I went into the upstairs sitting room and took his picture as he was settling into place.

He remained in the oak tree till 3:30 p.m., napping most of the time. He then returned to the hemlock. And I took his picture again.

After a day of being almost entirely and inactive, he got livened up. He flew into the woods across the creek, and in the direction of the pond. He retuned to the hemlock. He soared past the house and into the forest behind the house. Later I saw him flying in between the trees.

Haven't seen him since darkness fell, but I keep checking. I have a feeling we'll see him again....

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