2BY2: The Favorite Thus Far

Back on the tenth of January, on the tail end of dusk, I was driving to yoga class, already worried about being late. As I rounded the bend by the old school house, which sits next to an open field, I saw the silhouette of a bird on the telephone wire. A big bird.

I pulled over. I got out my binoculars. It was dark, and judging by its shape, I was 99%+ sure it was a barred owl. But to be certain, I got out of the car, walked almost directly beneath it, and looked closer.

Definitely not a great-horned.

I hear owls often. To get to see one is much more rare. I was thrilled.

The barred owl didn’t seem at all threatened by my standing so close—I imagine I was just an annoying distraction. S/he didn’t budge. When I began thinking about how s/he could take me out with those talons, and how I was late for class, I got back in my car and sped off.

Ten days later, after a particular stimulating salon at Lali’s, I was rounding that same bend, talking with Lynda, when suddenly I slammed on the brakes and exclaimed “He’s there again!”—thus scaring the bejeezus out of Lynda. (With no context, how could she know I wasn’t braking to miss someone running into the road, or perhaps seeing/hearing some imaginary guy in my head? When I pointed to the owl directly above us, though, she was pretty psyched.)

Tim hadn’t gotten a barred yet, so I rushed home, dropped Lynda off, and forced Tim into the car. It was the nose end of dusk, and we got great looks at this magnificent bird, who eventually decided this is bullshit and flew off.

On Friday, my friend Kate, whose (4-year-old?) son is trying to do a big year, texted me to ask where I’d seen that owl, because they were taking their kids on a picnic dinner drive, scouting for birds. I told her, and an hour later, she texted me this photo:

This owl was perched maybe a half-mile from my spot. I like to think it’s the same one—or its mate.

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