​On June 12th , I was taking some recyclables out to the container and spotted a strange object on the little patio between the trees – right next to the bird bath.  At first, I thought it was an injured rabbit – as it seemed out of whack… but then it turned its head and stared right into my eyes…  Well darn – that is an owl… a gray, little, mean eyed owl.  A perfectly shaped, gray rabbit colored owl – sitting there, staring me down…
 
I don’t know if it was really that mean but the little owl certainly looked irritated at my presence at what was most assuredly perceived to be his/her bathing spot… I backed away slowly… hoping that the little mean eyed, gray rabbit colored owl would stay in place long enough for me to retrieve my phone.  I needed to get a picture of this little guy or girl… how does one know?
 
I rushed into the house, slammed the door – ooops… clomped up the steps, found the phone in my bedroom, turned around and clomped back down the way I had come… this time careful not to slam the door.  Please little owl… still be there!  It was there, right where I had left it – on the stone patio next to the bird bath… I snapped a picture… a split second before it got frightened and flew off into the tree above the deck.
 
I slowly and less clompily followed the owl to the tree and focused my camera for another picture.  It wasn’t long before I noticed another owl and then another owl… was that first little owl frightened or simply waiting for my clompy return and the opportunity to introduce me to his/her family?  Flying to the branch that would give me the best view of his/her siblings or parents… whatever, that owl was inviting me to his/her tree… well my tree but at present the tree this owl family had claimed as their own… Oh my goodness… there are owls in my tree… and they are pooping on my deck…
 
Well, isn’t that interesting.  I have seen massive bird droppings like this in the past.  Splotches of white splatter on my swing, chairs and decking… a sudden realization… have the owls been here before – oh I bet they have! 
 
They blend in so well!  I would have never noticed them if I hadn’t seen that little one retreat from the sitting patio to the exposed branch… this is fascinating.  I think of my Great Aunt Rose when she wondered if she knew the little cricket that visited her on the window sill of her fifth-floor apartment in the Hotel Pathfinder… 
 
I look at the original little owl – the one that led me to the tree… do I know you?  He/she tilts her/his head and stares at me – unblinking… I’m not sure if that is an answer but the look is intense…  reincarnation?  Perhaps.
 
So, what’s the deal?  Are all these owls,  baby owls?  Where are the parents?  I have to tell my neighbor Judi – she will know what kind of owls these guys are!  OH - she will want to get some pictures of these owls. 
 
I call her on my cell phone and ask if she is busy… she is… she was just leaving… oh well – I have owls in my backyard and I thought you might like to get a picture… She will be right over… she gets her camera and hurries to the backyard deck.  
 
She forgets about her errands – that can wait.  We giggle at how lucky we are to have this opportunity.  She snaps a bunch of pictures.  Look at this one – oh isn’t he pretty… look at those eyes… I love the feathers… they’re so cute… I think they are screech owls.  
 
I come to the conclusion that we have three babies and a mom and dad.  Not sure why but it seems like we have three little ones that are hanging out together and then we have two bigger ones hanging out at a distance.  The baby owls probably don’t know that they are supposed to be afraid of me… and that one little owl sure acts like he/she knows me…  
 
Judi wraps up this photo shoot and promises to send me some of the better photos.  Rai and I decide we will go inside and leave the owls alone – we don’t want to interfere with any life lessons the parents were teaching the kids.
 
The next day, June 13th, I came out and looked in all the trees… thoroughly… and on the fence… and in the garden… and on the shed and then back over on the deck and carefully through all the branches one more time… no owls.  The owls have gone.  Darn.  I was hoping to see my little owl family, but they are gone.   I continue to mess around the yard and weed and take out volunteer trees… no owl sightings. 
 
The next day, June 14th, I see Judi in her yard and tell her the owls have left.  She tells me she saw four of them last night.  “What?”  It’s true - the owls were sitting on the fence and in the tree.  “What – No!  I missed the owls?  She and I go to the backyard… and sure enough there is an owl.  Right there in the tree and there is another one.  Whoa… look at those two up there staring at you!  Four owls – big as you please…
 
For the next couple of days, every time I go outside, I check the trees.  Often times, they are waiting for me and I find an owl right away – then there are times when it takes a while to find them camouflaged in amongst the branches.   
 
That one little owl tolerates me pretty well.  I think it’s a she.  She gets pretty close and she doesn’t back down.  She stares at me and looks at me like she’s trying to get me to understand something.  She is friendly in a mean eyed way of looking at you… she is fierce.  Oh man – though she be but little… she is fierce. 
 
Instead of being a third baby owl, I think she is the mom.  She is not much bigger than what I determine are the two babies… just a tad bit bigger.  The two owls that are larger, I have come to believe that they are two males.  One is the father, and in my mind, the other one is his brother… he’s like uncle “Scar” in the Lion King.  He has this funny looking eye… it may be scarred.  I wonder how he got that funny eye.  Look at the picture… his eye always looks “funny”… and he looks creepy – not sure how I feel about Uncle Scar.
 
The most owls I have been able to document at one time is five.  I found five owls in the tree by the bird bath.  I documented the occasion with a video.  Five separate owls.  Two babies, a slightly bigger mom, an even larger dad and lastly that one goofy, spooky looking owl with the funny eye… the crazy uncle Scar! 
 
I decided the two babies are twins – they look exactly alike!  Unfortunately, for story telling purposes, the idea that there could be twins from a single egg are pretty slim – like not going to happen at all.  Oh, you can get a double yolk egg but the viability or the chances of either developing into a healthy bird just doesn’t occur in nature or otherwise.  Soooo - babies are not twins...
 
So, an alternative story line – just spit balling here… is that a normal size clutch is anywhere from three to six eggs.  In my exhaustive research – 10 minutes on google – I found that after the babies are ready to leave the nest, the dad takes over the care and training of the little owls…
 
Soooo… that little bit bigger owl – the one that I thought could be the mom – well that one could very possibly be another baby and the mom has gone on to other things… like hunting and flying – exercising to get her figure back – that kind of thing.  Now the characters in the story are three babies and two adult guy owls.  
 
At this point, I don’t have a firm handle on the owl family dynamics or which direction the story will take if and when I decide to approach this episode in the backyard as a children’s story.  I will give myself permission to stray from actual factual content and develop the relationships as I see fit or the spirit leads me. 
 
I have lots of pictures.  I have personal interactions with the birds and a feeling of closeness with that one little owl in particular.  I have misgivings about that scarred owl… but you can’t judge a book by its cover.  He may be a protective and loving big brother or uncle – part of a larger family dedicated to providing care and nurturing to the little ones. 
 
I can’t help but start assigning human characteristics to the owls… human characteristics of members of my father’s side of the family.  The scarred owl reminds me of my great uncle Hubert.  He would be the brother of the mother owl – my great aunt Hilda.  The father of the baby owls would be “Curly” which was pretty funny because he was bald… I loved Uncle Curly as I did Aunt Hilda and her brother Uncle Hubert. 
 
Aunt Hilda and Uncle Curly were always smiling, laughing, joking and fond of my brother and I.  They adored their nephew, my dad, and we enjoyed spending time together.  That wasn’t often… they lived on a farm on the other side of Iowa but we would get together for family reunions, weddings, funerals – that type of thing. 
 
Uncle Hubert never married.  From all indications, I gathered he was a little slow.  He didn’t add much to the conversation but he followed along and laughed and smiled at the appropriate times.  He was always dressed in black pressed pants, a white shirt and tie.  His black hair combed back using the slick grooming products of the day – he smelled fresh and clean.  He never sported a beard or mustache – always neat and presentable… but there was something about his left eye… it drooped a bit – maybe it was a scar… he was still a handsome man but much more interesting with a bit of a defect.
 
This owl family reminds me of people in my past… The owls in the backyard stayed for several days.  I filmed their antics and took pictures of them lurking in the trees.  Their yellow rimmed eyes were fascinating to me and what they were trying to impart or the wisdom they were sharing is still winding its way through my being and my heart. 
 
Just as the frogs were patterned after people I love in the present, the owls certainly remind me of people that I loved in the past.  The melding of past and present occurred in the first series of frog books based on my experiences with my mother’s side of the family.   In this latest instance, the owls have taken me on a journey into the relationships and experiences relating to my father’s side of the family… it will be interesting to see where this journey actually leads and what the story becomes… if the story becomes!   

​Oh - I might as well admit it!   This owl story is going to become... it is becoming more and more in my little head with every word that gets typed out on the page...