Date: 2/5/26 6:20 am From: '<ctsnow8618...>' via NFLbirds <nflbirds...> Subject: Re: [NFLbirds] Owl Talk
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On Wednesday, February 4, 2026, 2:24 PM, Don Morrow <donaldcmorrow...> wrote:
I got down to St. Marks NWR early and walked alongLighthouse Road at the Double Bridges under a bright half-moon. The East Rivercrosses under the road here. Barred Owls nest in the hammock along the riverand I was hoping to hear one. Just after first light, when day birds began tocall, I realized that I would be disappointed.
I can do a reasonable Barred Owl call and when I was younger,I often used it to attract owls. Hooting up owls can be done to survey them or beused as an environmental education tool, but owl calling is a minor form of owlharassment. You’re not really talking to the owl. What you are doing ischallenging them by apparently being another owl in their territory. Thiscauses an owl to stop feeding while it investigates the intruder. As I havegotten older, I have become content to walk in the dark and let the owls picktheir moment.
One night, though, I did have a conversation with an owl. Itwas forty-five years ago, during my second year of graduate school. Memory canmorph over time, sharpening and elaborating some details, blurring, andeliminating others. As best I can remember, this is how it happened.
I lived on Old Chesterfield Road on the outskirts ofWinchester, New Hampshire, a small town down near the Massachusetts border. Afew hundred yards beyond our house, the pavement ended and the road continuedinto a thirteen- thousand-acre undeveloped state park. I would sometimes stayup late writing papers and drinking coffee. Wide awake at two or three in themorning, I would go walking in the park until sunrise.
Snowfall had been light that year and there was only about ahalf foot of new snow on the ground as I set out down the road in the moonlessdark. New Hampshire winters are very cold – sub-freezing to sub-zero, but I wasdressed for it with heavy boots, wool pants and sweater, a down vest under aheavy parka, a wool hat, mittens, and scarf.
I had no plan that night, nor on any other. Starlightreflecting off the snow had turned the landscape black-and-white. As my eyesquickly adjusted to the night, it was easy to see my way. The park had a welterof twisting, unmarked dirt roads, and trails. I followed Old Chesterfield Roadas it shifted from snow-covered pavement to snow-covered dirt, Then, basedsolely on whim, I turned onto a connecting trail and wandered out into thenight.
When my path led me into thick evergreens the surroundingforest edge was black and I walked down a white pathway roofed with stars. WhenI passed through leafless deciduous forest, the night opened up and the trunksof the maples and oaks stood in ranks of black silhouettes against the lighter snow.
Some nights the wind howled through the trees, sending snowdown on me from the branches above. That night was still and quiet. No soundsintruded from the surrounding rural countryside. I walked making randomdecisions when I came to intersections until I found myself on the edge of apond. It was not big –maybe an acre across. Its frozen surface was a whiteexpanse of snow-covered ice. The sky above was black and spotted with stars. AsI stood there quietly, listening to the silence, a Barred Owl called from thefar side of the pond with its standard eight-part call. Who-cooks-for-you, who-cooks-for-y'all.
That night there was no need to hoot up the owl, it wasthere and had already announced its presence. But, when it called again, onimpulse I pulled the scarf covering my face down, inhaled a lungful of freezingair and hooted my Barred Owl call out into the night. I waited a few secondsand then the owl responded. I was enthralled and began to duet with the owl.The owl would call; I would call back and then the owl would answer me. After a few minutes I began to wonder if wewere really talking or was the owl simply calling rhythmically and I justhappened to call in the gaps between its calls?
Barred Owls have a number of calls. The eight-part Who-cooks-for-you,who cooks for y’all is the most common, but they sometimes do a variant five-partcall, sort of Who, who, who, whoo wah. The pattern is reminiscent of a Great HornedOwl call, but louder and more exuberant. I switched to the variant Barred Owlcall and from the far side of the pond, the owl switched its call to match mine.
We continued hooting to each other for a few minutes untilthe owl switched back to the eight-part call, which I matched. We continued duettingand I was beginning to wonder if the owl had just been humoring me. Then itswitched back to the five-part call. I matched it and we continued hooting toeach other across the frozen pond. Sometimes I switched the cadence of the calland sometimes the owl switched, but regardless, the other changed to match thenew cadence.
We continued until my face and lips were frozen and I waschilled from standing in the snow. I stopped hooting. The unseen owl continued,switching between the five-part and eight-part calls. Then it fell silent.
I had duetted with Barred Owls before and have done sosince, but this was different, more intimate. The owl and I had had aconversation. I was aware that there was an intelligence on the other side ofthe pond and hoped that the owl felt the same way. I’m still not entirely surewhat we were talking about. Sort of, “Can you do this?” but it was enough.
The sky was beginning to lighten in the East. It was time tohead home. I had a general sense of where I was and I always managed to find myway. I adjusted the scarf to cover my face and began the long walk back home throughthe snow.
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