Big Owl Year Part 1: Contemplating a Big Owl Year

From the deserts of the southwestern United States to the boreal forests of Canada, North America is home to 19 species of owls. (Here, North America is defined as continental USA and Canada. Mexico has enough owls to warrant its own list!) The following link contains photos of the adorable cast of NA owls (make sure you're sitting down): https://www.owling.com/north-american-owls/.

Hardly an original idea, I thought it would be fun to attempt to see all 19 species in one calendar year. A Big Owl Year, of sorts. Even if I came up short, imagine the places I would go, the sunsets and sunrises I would see, the creepy noises of the night I would hear, and the hours I would spend wandering around in freezing temperatures. My mind schemed: I already knew where I could see several species in Colorado and I had already booked a trip to Minnesota in January, which might just yield the boreal species I needed. I got busy and compiled the following list in a spreadsheet:

1. Barn Owl

2. Barred Owl

3. Boreal Owl

4. Burrowing Owl

5. Eastern Screech Owl

6. Elf Owl

7. Ferruginous Pygmy Owl

8. Flammulated Owl

9. Great-gray Owl

10. Great-horned Owl

11. Long-eared Owl

12. Northern Hawk Owl

13. Northern Pygmy Owl

14. Northern Saw-whet Owl

15. Short-eared Owl

16. Snowy Owl

17. Spotted Owl

18. Western Screech Owl

19. Whiskered Screech Owl

Wouldn't it be great to try to see them all? Famous last words...

A 3-Owl Day

The goal on January 6th was to see if the Western and Eastern Screech Owls were at the same places we had seen them in December 2018. If they were at their posts, it would be an easy way to check off two species of owls early in the year. Next we planned to drive northeast to a wildlife area on the plains in search of Great-horned Owls. If we were lucky we might glimpse the Barn Owl that had been seen two days earlier or see a Long-eared Owl fly from a long row of junipers at dusk.

Owl #1: Western Screech Owl

January 6, 2019, 11 a.m.

A dog park in Colorado Springs, CO

After a late start due to a sinus infection with which I was inflicted, we drove to the dog park in Colorado Springs where the Western Screech Owl had been seen. A weekend day, the parking lot was completely full of dog lovers' vehicles, but we finally snagged a spot. We must have looked out of place as we marched across the dog park on a mission, with a backpack full of binocs and cameras, and dogless. (We had left Mr. Scott Rumpus at home as he is not keen on birding.) The park, which smelled of dog urine and worse, was teeming with dogs and their humans. We saw a mini-schnauzer in a pink sweatshirt who was so excited to see us that she jumped against the fence between us like a mechanical toy; not far from her a toy poodle named Bella with barrettes on her ears looked like she was on her way to Sunday School. There was also a Scottish terrier with a skirt and a beard, with whom Christi took an immediate fancy. We probably saw 50 dogs of all shapes and sizes and breeds and almost as many people. But we were here to see the owl.

We burst through the crowd shortly before the roosting spot, which is pictured below. Not wanting to draw attention we waited for people and dogs to vacate before we blatantly took out our cameras and binocs. However, we couldn't help snapping a photo of oblivious people standing directly underneath the owl. Owl blindness...

Finally, we had a window with no people. Here's a close up of our little owl friend.

In the photo below, Christi is admiring the screech owl's feathery camouflage.

Success.

On the return from Colorado Springs we stopped at South Platte Park to see the tundra swan, which had been reported. It was readily seen swimming in one of the smaller lakes. We walked through the area, hoping to see the trumpeter swans and the black scoter that had also been reported, but to no avail. We did see bald eagles perched on the ice -- they resembled ice fishermen/women except they were without a tent and a 6-pack of Coors Lite.

By now we were too famished to care about the four male Red-Breasted Mergansers that were a mere 15-minute walk away. So, we headed back to our car and on the way saw the American Dipper under the Mineral Street bridge. The slaty-gray bird, with its clipped tail feathers bobbed up and down before it flew 30 feet downstream, where it bobbed up and down some more. Oh to be a water ouzel...

Owl #2: Eastern Screech Owl

January 6, 2019, 1:30 p.m.

A suburban park in Littleton, CO

At long last we grabbed Chipotle burritos and drove to a suburban park in Littleton where we devoured them. Satiated, we walked two minutes to where we had seen the screech owl several weeks before. Predictably, it was there, sleeping in its little tree hole.

A close up of the Eastern Screech Owl:

A photo of Christi admiring the owl.

After seeing the Eastern, we made a beeline to the wildlife area on the eastern plains

Owl #3: Great-horned Owl

January 6, 2019, 4 p.m.

A wildlife area on the eastern plains of Colorado

We made it to the visitor center before it closed. No report of any species of owl was listed on the whiteboard, so we decided to walk towards where we had seen owls before. We soon ran into a husband/wife duo with binocs around their necks and smiles on their faces. Seeing we also had binocs they told us about the owl they had seen around the corner. Christi easily spotted it. It was a Great-horned owl. We walked 1/8 mile more and and saw another. She got a splendid photo of the second bird, considering the distance between her and the owl. There was even some nice backlighting going on.

We were unable to locate the Barn Owl.

The walk back: reflection of the evening sky in the canal

Sunset on the plains

There was one more chance to see another species -- the Long-eared Owl. As dusk was approaching, we hurried to the row of juniper trees by the park entrance. Rumor (among birding circles) has it that if you hang out around these juniper trees at dusk, a Long-eared Owl might fly out. It didn't. But today was my first 3-owl day ever!

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A Barn Owl Day

Owl #4: Barn Owl

January 20, 2019, 1 p.m.

A wildlife area on the eastern plains of Colorado

We were supposed to be in Grand Lake this weekend, relaxing at the cabin and snowshoeing and skate-skiing. The closure of Rocky Mountain N.P. (Trump had thrown one of his temper tantrums resulting in a partial government shutdown) and a snowstorm had thwarted our plans. We resorted to Plan B, which was to go owling at the same wildlife area we had visited on January 6th. Perhaps the ranger at the visitor center had some intel on the Barn Owl. She didn't, or at least nothing that she wanted to share with us. Not knowing what else to do, we set out for the area a Barn Owl had nested the season before.

The wind whipped across the lake, making the temperature feel 10 degrees lower than it was in Denver. My cold, swollen, and clumsy hands held my binocs to my face as I scanned the cottonwoods for owl silhouettes. Nothing. We continued to a place where, if I were a Barn Owl, I would have roosted. Along the way we saw dark-eyed juncos, black-capped chickadees, a downy woodpecker, a pygmy nuthatch, robins, flickers, kestrels, northern harriers, bald eagles, northern pintails, 1000+ Canada geese, northern shovelers, mallards, and unidentifiable sparrows (I really need to improve my sparrow ID). But no Barn Owl.

We gave up and proceeded to the junipers. As we walked along the row, we peered in every 10 feet or so, but saw no Long-eared Owls. We ducked through an opening and were now standing in a cool, shady Juniperus woodland. I was reminded of running through forests as a child and how magical it felt. I wish I could still feel that magic and wonder at my childhood intensity and frequency. As my eyes adjusted to the lower light, I noticed streaks of whitewash on the scaled leaves of a juniper. The ground underneath the tree was strewn with the bleached bones of small animals. Seems promising, I said to Christi.

Whooosh. I looked up just in time to see a Barn Owl fly through an opening in the trees. It circled above me. Its heart-shaped alien face tilted down and registered surprise, curiosity, or some other owl emotion. Before I could focus my camera the bird disappeared farther down the row.

We continued to walk along the row and at one point flushed the same owl again, who was followed by a second Barn Owl. I felt bad that we had flushed the owl twice as our goal was to observe, not disturb. We left this row and headed to another, where we were hoping to see a Long-eared Owl. Out popped another Barn Owl. Christi and I high-fived each other as we walked back to our car. Our trip had already paid off. Also, now that I know Barn Owls roost here, I will not approach these particular junipers again and will instead observe from my car at dusk.

Since we had struck out with Long-eared Owls, we decided to continue northeast to another wildlife area. It was hunting season and we were unclear as to whether we were allowed to visit or not, and certainly did not want to get shot at. Christi discussed our concerns with the ranger at the visitor center of the first place and the ranger thought it would be fine for us to go. Anyways, she pointed out, hunters would be shooting up in the air at waterfowl and so we wouldn't be in their line of fire. I hoped to high heavens we would not hear a gunshot and see a bird drop from the sky.

When we arrived, a pink sign taped to the gate assured us that the wildlife area was open to the public, not just to those with hunting permits. We immediately got to work, as there were many rows of junipers and noxious Russian olive trees to peruse. We started with a particularly long row for no other reason than that I had seen a Long-eared Owl in this row in 2012. We walked up and down, looking and listening. Whooosh! A large streaky-brown bird sailed low through the junipers, but quickly integrated into the shadowy woodland again. We saw it, but couldn't get a positive ID. I couldn't count it, but I would be very surprised if it wasn't a Long-eared Owl.

On the walk back to the car, we had the absolute pleasure of observing a juvenile Bald Eagle standing on the ice, surrounded by the bloody carnage of some unfortunate animal it had killed minutes before. It continued to shred the animal, with its bloody talons and beak. Then, a mature bald eagle flew perhaps 25 feet overhead en route to an adjacent cornfield, which was full of field mice, bunnies, and gophers.

By then, the afternoon shadows had lengthened, the temperature was dropping, and it was a work night. On the way back to our car we agreed to return our next free weekend to continue the search for Long-eared Owls.

To be continued...

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#screechowl #bigowlyear