This Gray Owl or Canadian Gray, is visiting us in Wisconsin. About a year old – he still has some white feathers – he’s attracting crowds of gawkers. A week ago today we heard the hoot, hoot, hooting of an owl and later discovered him hanging out near the Capital City Brewery. Apparently, there is a shortage of voles in Canada, so he has come here looking for food. I wonder if he likes chipmunks?
Today I saw him preening and mugging for the crowd. It’s a hoot, so to speak, to see that thick neck twist and turn. I remember my mother using the term “owly” to describe me when I was crabby. “Why are you so owly, Mary?” I guess owls look a little like they are frowning, but this one looks more like it’s wearing a steel-plated mask.
Oh well, I’m sure there is poetry lurking in there somewhere.
poeticpossibilities 