A Burrowing Owl

That Christmas cactus that has been blooming since Thanksgiving is starting up for a third time with new blossoms, while the last few are still remaining from Christmas. I was admiring the newcomers on this constantly budding plant when I looked out ot the window, and there, to my amazement, a few feet away, was a fluffy looking ball of grey and white feathers, perched on the railing of our back steps.

Even though it was the middle of the day, I recognized that pile of fluff as an owl. What a thrill! An owl was a rare sight even when we lived in our land in the country. But just at that moment I saw my husband drive up and park in the garage. The owl did not budge. I ran frantically to my office window in the next room and pounded on the window. The owl remained still. My husband, loaded with shopping bags, paused at the bottom of the steps, looked up at me and past where I was pointing to the yard next door. I gestured frantically to try to stop him. He shrugged his shoulders and started up the steps as I ran to the back door. I was too late. The owl flew away as Bob stepped inches away from him.

In hindsight, I knew I should have gestured Bob back, instead of toward our visitor, but the deed was done, the owl flew away, never, maybe never, to be seen again.

Bob had a brief glimpse of him and identified him as a burrowing owl. The internet proved him correct, and they do appear during the day, hunting mice, lizards, small birds and insects during the summer season. Oh, small birds. Well, that could explain the absence of birds the past few months at our feeders. And all along I was blaming that on the neighbor's cat.

I have looked for that owl since his mysterious, wondrous appearance in our back yard in town. Where is his home? Will he show up again? Then, if it is a "she", will we have some owlets this spring?

Ah, sweet mysteries of life - always popping up, always entertaining, always enriching my small, brief spot in this world. I may never see that tiny owl again, but I have that picture etched in my memory because I happened to be at that place and looked out that back window at that moment in time.