Spent most of the day working on the annual herd reports. No excitement there.

Was coming out of the post office when I met another man coming in. Not a familiar face, but he looked like he knew where he was going. And oddly excited about it all, too.

We followed the new addition to our routine, walking across the intersection onto the median island so we could check out the owls. Both owlets were there, sitting on the window sill, the smaller peeking out around the larger sibling. No parent.

As we headed home, we met the stranger also coming from the P.O. Walking down the middle of the street, clearly trying to get a peek at the owls.

Turns out he didn't know about the owlets and nest. Just saw the parent a while ago, sitting on the rail, and wanted to see if it was still there. So I pointed out the owlets, and gave him an update on owls nesting in town.

I was right. He doesn't live here. But he did. His Mom lives two blocks from us, in the house where he grew up.

Yeah, he grew up in this town. Been a while since he'd been back.

There weren't any owls in town when he was living here. Saw one once. That was it.

They've been nesting in town ever since we got here.

He's pretty disappointed at the dilapidated condition of the hotel, and all the empty shops on that block. Had his first job in the bowling alley, setting up pins. Before the process was mechanized. Lower the rack from the ceiling, set the pins in their slots, then lift the rack up. And send the ball back to the bowler.

His older brother lost his two front teeth to a wayward pin from the alley next to the one he was working on.

Next to the bowling alley was the pool hall. His paycheck just went that one door down. Earned in the bowling alley, spent on the pool tables. Or at the soda fountain on the other end of the block.

This town was alive back then, not just a sleepy suburb of another city. Those folks came here for a good time. It must have been something to grow up here then. A bona fide Mayberry.

I've seen the dining hall in the hotel. The semi-nude statue over the fountain, the light green tiles, the fancy woodwork. Last time was at the town's 65 Anniversary party. Turns out this guy was here for that.

But he ate in that dining hall. Once a month they would walk the kids down from school to have their lunch at the hotel. One of his sisters had her wedding reception in that dining room. I didn't know the fountain had had goldfish in it.

Turns out his sister once lived in our house, with her five kids. He asked about our neighbors by name, whose kids he grew up and went to school with. He put the roof on our house. He's sure it would have been reroofed somewhere between then (1969) and when we bought it, but I'm not so sure.

I refrained from complaining about the way he did the valleys between the main roof and the living room. The ones where it always leaks if the wind blows while it rains (which is almost always). I've helped roof a house myself. I know how to do that without getting leaks, now.

He blames the town's demise on the Interstate. When they looped around town, the motorists and busses no longer stopped here.

This is my home now, and little changed from when we first moved here, 23 years ago. But today I got to see how it used to be.

I feel a loss that I hadn't felt before.