Life Gets Wild

It’s 4 pm and I’m trying to save an article I’m writing that’s heading off a cliff called mundane when a shadow passes across my face. I look up and a jumbo jet-sized wing blocks my view of the mesquite tree.  It’s not a plane, it’s a bird; an owl to be specific. He lands on the rocks not ten yards from where I now stand, camera in hand. We have a staring contest. He wins.

I’ve wanted all my life to be this close to one of these magnificent creatures, and here I am in my office blogging about it.

He stays on the rocks for quite awhile, aware of the bunnies cavorting around him (dumb bunnies) but uninterested. The ground around our desert house is littered with body parts that tell us he is well fed. Later he lifts into the air, circles at minimum altitude and ascends into a neighboring mesquite tree. There he stays for quite awhile, but now he’s back down on the ground upsetting the cactus wrens. His chin feathers beat to the rhythm of his panting breath. It’s 111 degrees outside. I want to bring him a dish of water, but I know better.

This beats anything I’ve seen on TV, except maybe for Gabby going for gold. This is a CBS Sunday Morning moment of nature. When the bunny we’ve been watching hops right in front of the owl, I write the headline for this blog: Murder on the Patio. I see the talons grip the furry body, the beak tear the baby bunny limb from limb, the blood fly...but it doesn’t happen. I think I could have watched it though. I surprise myself.

I’m watching him now. He dips his head at something in sight. He raises his head and his throat vibrates. He looks at me and I confess; I don’t know very much about owls but I don’t think he should be here. I hope he’s okay.