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a pair of hooters After more than two days of steady, strong winds, our sidewalks were drifted over with dirty snow. So late Tuesday afternoon found me on the south walk, chiseling ice off the concrete. I soon realized I wasn't alone. There in the cottonwood across the street were two great-horned owls. Busily hooting at each other, even though they were only meters apart. Yep, it's mating season. I interrupted their conversation a number of times with hoots of my own. Which actually got some positive responses from the larger female, on the right. Her suitor would have none of that, and made one feint down towards my head, landing himself on the powerpole behind me. But I was apparently quickly dismissed as any kind of serious threat to his wooing, and he quickly returned to his future mate. And I went back to my ice. |
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