See Sneed read from his book Woodpeckers and Warblers at River Oaks Books in Houston, November 17 at 3 p.m. and at The Well-Read Moose in Coeur d’Alene (Idaho) on November 23 at 6 p.m.
On Thursday, November 8th, my friend Eli and I were in the middle of a heated game of “Cup of Bluff” when my phone began going off. I saw that it was Nick and answered it.
“What’s going on?”
“Shh!” He was whispering.
“What?”
“I am at the Gravel Quarry standing, like, ten feet from a Saw-whet right now! Get your dad and get down here!”
He hung up and texted me his exact location. I raced upstairs and into my dad’s dark bedroom, abruptly waking him up from a nap. I told him the news. He yawned, and said, “Well, get your stuff! Let’s go!”
We rolled out of the house 10 minutes later, when Eli started his piano lesson with my mom. Nick was waiting for us at the Quarry, and as we pondered which routes would get us there the fastest, he sent us constant updates. According to him, it seemed like every bird at the Quarry was trying to make us miss the owl:
“A shrike just flew in and scared the owl, but it’s still in the same bush.”
“A mob of chickadees is trying to attack it! No!”
“Don’t let the Merlin distract you on the way in—go straight to the owl.”
This last thing was going to be particularly hard, as my dad still did not have Merlin for the year. Fortunately (and a little unfortunately), when we finally arrived, the Merlin was nowhere to be seen. We tiptoed down the hill into the forest section, and spotted Nick and his mom staring at a tree.
Though bored-looking, this Saw-whet was actually one of the most active owls we’ve ever seen!
“Look,” he said pointing straight into the tangle of branches, “See that puffball? That’s the bird.”
We looked right through and saw what Nick was calling the Northern Saw-whet Owl. It was looking away from us, but we could still sort of identify it. The view disappointed us, though, and my dad went around back of the tree to attempt some photos.
After about five minutes, the owl suddenly cocked its head and flew closer to my dad. We quietly joined him, and saw that the owl was now wide awake and perched in full sunlight.
“This is what he was doing when I first saw him,” whispered Nick.
“Look, there must be a mouse under there,” I said.
The Saw-whet’s eyes was intently following the rustle of leaves beneath him. Suddenly, he dove and retreated back to his previous spot within the bush. He hadn’t gotten the mouse, though, and eventually came back out into full view, his warm brown streaks and adorable golden eyes highlighted by the light of the sunset.
After about a half hour of photographing and staring at this new lifer, we left him alone.
The Gravel Quarry had scored again.
Northern Saw-whet Owl–another nemesis ticked off, and another great experience!
