The Mystery Of The Rasping Owls

By Maryanna Gabriel

When I returned to my home after being away for an extended time I strode across the yard and sensing a presence hesitated. I turned and saw an enormous owl on my garden post gazing intently at me. I froze and tiptoed gently in retreat. He was huge. His head swiveled and followed me into the house and he gazed unblinkingly at me through the window for two to three hours. I took this to be a good sign. I have been wondering about the owls, of course, especially as I have been walking in the twilight and listening to their rasp down the road by the canal. As the night deepened an owl swooped down close to my head. Hello, I said softly. Then he did it again. It felt very special. I began to wonder why I am seeing owls everywhere. A couple of days ago at the lake, in broad daylight, an owl and I had a good look at each other. I was motionless for many minutes not wanting to be the first to break the trance. It brought to mind the words of Clarissa Pinkola Estes, raconteur extraordinaire, in her Mother Night series, for she says the owl sees what others do not and is able to penetrate the mystery of the dark. Feeling somehow like I am being drawn into a mystery myself I contacted an ornithologist friend, asking about the rasps. “Why are they not hooting?” I wondered. “Sounds like Barred Owls,” he wrote to me. He added they are juveniles asking for food from parents who are trying to wean their young. I learned that this breathy rasping sound is the juvenile Barred Owl (Strix varia) begging. I can say with authority, there is a lot of weaning going on around here then. One would think that given they are teenagers there will be hooting soon and hopefully less pesky vermin. Indeed this does bode well.