group
of students and I were once exploring some ruins. These were not
ancient ruins, which are so often admired as monuments to the achievements
of man, but recent ruins of maybe some 60 years, true monuments to the
power of nature. These were still recognizably greenhouses, but the
glass was long gone, and vines crawled up the sides and around the empty
window frames. A single mature tree grew out of the middle of one of
the long, low buildings, spreading its branches well beyond the limits of
the former roof, while younger trees pushed their way through the floor,
past potting tables, over long abandoned seedling trays, and reached for
sunlight. The remains of the roofline dipped, mirroring the
ground below where the foundation had sunken, shifted, or simply given way
under the long-standing weight of the concrete floor.
We were careful to step lightly on broken glass,
through cat-brier, and over debris-covered ground. The students were
quiet, perhaps concentrating on walking through the mess, perhaps
contemplating the strength of nature (we teachers are a hopeful lot!).
One paused, suddenly grabbing my arm, and pointed toward a small branch,
where, oblivious to our presence, a screech owl slept. The owl
was perhaps 10 feet from us, and nearly perfectly camouflaged in the thick
of the wooded area surrounding the ruins. His gray feathers blended
with the gray of the tree-trunks, and his speckled pattern ran into the
shadows cast by the leaves. And he slept on.
I brought the students here to show an example of
succession—usually, field becomes forest. In this case, I wanted to
show how forests spread relentlessly when left alone, even into man-made
structures. First, the plants grow tall, and seeds are carried to an
area by wind, birds, or other animals. Small mammals, like mice,
moles, and voles, and birds, like sparrows and other perching birds, find
their way into well sheltered overgrown areas quickly. The predators
soon follow—and owls are fierce predators—but they often remain unseen.
Seeing the predator was, like many memorable sightings during nature hikes,
an unplanned bonus.
Owls are also silent predators. Unique among
bird species, owls have noiseless feathers, and when they fly, they are
rarely heard by their prey. An owl feather is combed at the edge, and
this dampens the sounds of flight. If you find a feather, you can
tell if it is an owl feather both by the combs, and by swinging it through
the air. A typical feather makes a sound; an owl feather does not.
Click here for a photo of an owl’s flight feather.
Owls have a few other advantages over their prey. We
have all seen pictures of owls emphasizing their large eyes and
flexible necks. An owl can turn its head in an arc of about 270
degrees or more, depending on the species, from the front. This is
because they have 14 neck bones; we humans have only 7 and find that an arc
of about 90 degrees in either direction is our limit. Owls have big
eyes for great night vision, and an owl’s eyes are on the front of its
face. This allows the owl to use binocular vision for depth perception and
to view the prey head on as he approaches it. Take a close look at
the birds at your feeder. Their eyes are on the sides of their faces.
What advantage would that give to a small bird?
An owl’s face is also specially shaped for hearing,
but the tufts on top of the heads of many owls are not ears. Birds
have ear holes covered by feathery flaps. In most owls, the feathers
in the face surrounding the eyes make a disc which includes the hidden
ears, and acts as a sound amplifier. The ears, which are at slightly
different heights in the sides of the face, can even help an owl to tell
how distant the prey is! In a barn owl, this disc is heart-shaped,
while in most other owls, the disc is shaped rather like a figure eight
around the eyes.
Owl feet are also unique in the bird world. One
toe is reversible, and can be used with the front or back toes. This
is helpful both for sitting in trees, and for grasping and holding prey.
Some owls, like the snowy owl, have feathered feet to help them keep warm.
What does it feel like to be on the wrong end of an owl’s feet?
Biologist Jim Duncan, in the February 2005 issue of
National Geographic Magazine, says it’s “Like being whacked by a
two-by-four with nails sticking out of it.” I’ll take his word for
it.
Owls in popular culture are nearly always depicted as
wise. “How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll*
center of a Tootsie Pop*?” Asking an owl might not be the best way to
find out. Owls don't lick, and they don’t bite and chew their food
into small pieces, though they often tear up food for their young.
Owls have no teeth for chewing, and most often swallow small prey whole, or
slightly shredded if the prey is too large for a single bite. Since
fur and bones are hard to digest, the owl regurgitates the leftover parts
of its food in a pellet. Sterilized owl pellets are readily
available for purchase, but finding one in the wild is thrilling.
Last year our young friend Bernadette found a perfect owl pellet at the
base of a spruce tree. We took it apart (and washed our hands
afterwards) and found the remains of a meadow vole. If you choose to
purchase an
owl pellet kit, it will usually come with a
chart of bones and teeth so you may identify the owl’s victim.
Be careful! Sometimes what appears to be an owl
pellet is not an owl pellet at all, but the dried scat of another
predator. Once while at a lecture on ornithology at the American
Museum of Natural History, I saw a woman carrying a coffee can containing
what she thought was the biggest owl pellet ever found. As she
pulled the item from the can—and pulled and pulled—a musky odor filled the
air, and the lecturer told the horrified woman that she had a can full of
dried fox scat! In her defense, they can be similar in content, if
not size.
Over the years, our family has enjoyed many owlish
books, and while cartoon owls are wise, literary owls are often endearing.
Real life owls can be, too, though when taken from the wild, their
behavior is often quirky. My college ornithology professor has
an owl who is calm and gentle until he hears laughter, which makes him
shriek and hide. Jean Craighead George author of
My side of the Mountain, takes on the topic of owls and conservation in
There’s an Owl in the Shower, a story inspired in part on her family’s
true experience with an owl. The George family’s adventures with owls
and many other animals are recounted in
There’s a Tarantula in my Purse. The chapter called “The Screech
Owl Who Liked Television” is a great example not only of owl behavior, but
also of young girl behavior. Another true-to-life owl story is
Owls in the Family by Farley Mowat. Owl
Moon is a spectacular Caldecott award-winning picture book that will
have you “owling” in the nighttime forest.
The literary owl often combines the nature of owls
with more human characteristics. Mr. Ocax in
Poppy by Avi looks like “death himself” to a mouse. The owls in
The Silver Chair meet in a parliament, and carry humans on their
backs, though at least one cannot help but hunt, nearly losing his
passenger. Breaking far away from owlish stereotype, Lear’s
owl in
Owl and the Pussycat is in love with a cat, sings, and rides in a boat.
The non-fiction section is a great place to find
wonderful photos of owls. While most of us will never climb up a tree
to find a nest of owlets, wildlife photographers like Jim Burns (North
American Owls) do the work for us, showing us the life of a baby owl in
living color, as we sit in our armchairs. Bernd Heinrich’s
Owl in the House is an outstanding example of a naturalist’s diary, and
goes along with his longer, more scientific,
One Man’s Owl. Learn
All About Owls with Jim Arnosky, or introduce your pre-schooler to
Owl Babies. Recite an owl poem for two voices in the last entry
from
I Am Phoenix.
Click on a few of the links below and start an owl
study. If you can’t find an owl pellet (don’t give up--you never know
when you might stumble across one!), buy one and find out what an owl
typically eats. This is also a great lesson in mammalian biology, and
you won’t have to kill anything before the dissection! Take a night
hike, or just listen at night. Look for feathers in the forest.
Visit a wild life refuge and see injured owls in rehabilitation.
Learn owl calls, and visit owl habitats. Most of all, keep your eyes
and ears wide open, and look around—you never know whoooo you might
find!
group
of students and I were once exploring some ruins. These were not
ancient ruins, which are so often admired as monuments to the achievements
of man, but recent ruins of maybe some 60 years, true monuments to the
power of nature. These were still recognizably greenhouses, but the
glass was long gone, and vines crawled up the sides and around the empty
window frames. A single mature tree grew out of the middle of one of
the long, low buildings, spreading its branches well beyond the limits of
the former roof, while younger trees pushed their way through the floor,
past potting tables, over long abandoned seedling trays, and reached for
sunlight. The remains of the roofline dipped, mirroring the
ground below where the foundation had sunken, shifted, or simply given way
under the long-standing weight of the concrete floor. 
