Last night during our pre-slumber cuddles, the entire bird population of our back woods went nutso. Primarily composed of black-capped chicadees and Robins, a chorus of bird screeching went up like I'd not heard since Bermuda when I visited the Rainbow Lory exhibit in the zoo. It went on long enough that I took N, sleepy in my arms, out to investigate.
Halfway up our tallest hemlock, a moon-faced owl sat perched, staring down into our yard. I called loudly for P-Daddy to come out too. I didn't want him to miss it! He came out with D in arms, and we sat watching the cacophany. Every bird in the vicinity had flocked to this tree. Each branch was laden with angry, small birds intent on driving this predator away. When finally he left, shortly after G joined us, he flew directly diagonal across our backyard, giving us a beautiful view of his wingspan and coloring. It was a magnificent, large specimen of Northern Saw-whet Owl.
OH how I wish for my camera to be repaired. I tried to get pictures, but he was just too far up the tree.
What really trips me out is that Shnaygirl and I heard the flipping thing earlier that day, and couldn't figure out what it was, this after a conversation about totems.
Lunch today: bubble and squeak, using cabbage, onions and purple new potatoes from the farm.