Like clockwork every evening as the maroon glow of sunset fades through the gates of darkness, a silhouetted Great Horned Owl swoops down from the blank, backlit sky to perch on a naked limb atop the neighborhood’s tallest oak tree.
I know of this because most evenings at this time, I’m lounging upstairs on a guest room bed at my house watching reruns of “The Rockford Files.” Out of my window, I always catch that large bird of prey‘s arrival in the tree from the corner of my eye.
With my full attention diverted from my show, I stare out my second story window to the top of my backyard neighbor’s tree. The owl always hangs out there for a minute or so while swiveling its head, identifiable in the near-dark by its large size and pointed ears.
After feeling assured of its safety, the owl launches itself out of the tree, down and across another backyard neighbor’s yard, disappearing into a tangle of smaller trees at the corner of their property.
This regular evening ritual is fascinating and exhilarating.
(Photos CC from the Interwebs)
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