In the last 24 hours, while listening at night for owls and
whip-poor-wills (no solicitations made) I encountered these busy folks:
Two Great Horned Owls in woods behind our house, above a small pasture.
One steadily singing a hoot song and the other responding occasionally
with a variety of squawks and whines.
Two Barred Owls from another part of those woods up the mountain a bit,
carrying on with "Who cooks for you" songs plus hoots, hoos, and
hooawws. Male and female judging by the different pitches of their voices.
One Catbird, commenting on the night from a shrubby roost by the corner
of the porch.
The honking of a single Canada Goose way up high in the starry sky
winging south, as the light of a north-bound solitary jet much higher up
carries its nocturnal passengers to some distant continent .... and
higher yet the bright star-like point of light of a satellite making yet
another circle of earth from east to west passed the moon, our elder
The resident summer and now autumn Eastern Screech Owl purring its
persistent, soft tremolo from behind the barn .... who never broke
stride during a sudden outburst of quiet-of-the-night-shattering
screams, shrieks, and howling of outrageously loud rendezvousing coyotes
along their trail that passes the barn just out of sight in shrubby ledges.
One flying squirrel that sailed by me in the 3:00am moonlight, out of a
tall spruce into a pile of early fallen cones of another spruce.
And down the road, just after the end of Civil Twilight last evening, at
their summer home three remaining Whip-poor-wills, and perhaps a fourth,
still singing their songs as moth-food flew by silhouetted in the light
of a bright waning full moon. These songs soon will quiet as the
families wing south for the winter.
As I am concluding this note at 4:22am, the Screech Owl continues its
tremolos from some perch just off the back porch, loud enough I can hear
it from every room of the house.