A NIGHT OWL

Good evening. My name is Barnabus. I am a barn owl. Yes, a barn owl named Barnabus. I didn't make the rules. Mine is a simple country life in a rural area in Texas. I live alone in my very own loft of a run down red barn vacated by farm animals long ago. I live off a road named Snowy Owl Lane, which is quite humorous since we live in Texas and there are no Snowy Owls in these parts. I have plenty of company should I want it both day and night. But the most interesting things happen at night. This is perfect since I happen to be nocturnal. Let me show you a glimpse into the life of a wise, old barn owl and the cast of characters on Snowy Owl Lane.

My old, dilapidated barn sits on property that used to be a racetrack. Boy, those were the days! The announcer's voice, the thrill of the crowd, and the thunder of hooves all mix together for exciting weekend nights. Eventually the the track went bankrupt and now sits dormant. The pastures surrounding it are home to retired or abandoned race horses. Some of them are skin and bones prompting abuse reports that send sheriffs out to interview the current caretakers. The horses don't have much personality and typically go to bed shortly after I begin my nightly hunt. Therefore, I don't recall names , but I do admire them from afar. Especially a pretty, Palomino filly I like to call Carmel.

Across the street on Snowy Lane is Stetson the steer and his harem of heifers and calves he sired. Now Stetson is quite a hoot, and that is coming from me! He catnaps most of the day in the shade of a tree. Just as I am waking up at twilight, I am certain to run into him making his rounds on Doe Way. His favorite thing to do is greet the occasional driver buy blocking the road, going up to the driver's window, and liking them with his gigantic, smooth tongue when they roll the window down. It is one of the highlights of my night to see the horrified looks on the humans' faces!

Down the road a bit on the same side as Stetson, is a pond with the resident turtle living there. Murtle is a bit of a recluse. She only comes out when it rains. She likes to hunt for her food on human land. When she has been sited and the human runs to find a witness to her beauty and size, she is long gone when they return, causing the humans to wonder if they saw her at all. When it is sunny and hot, she can be seen sunning herself on a rock. She is diurnal so our paths rarely cross. But when they do, she has a clever story about a frog or dragonfly.

Further down the road life gets much more interesting. Humans live on the oldest piece of land in the area. There are so many out buildings on the property, it makes my head spin in a complete circle. Thanks to multiple families, goats, numerous children, and plenty of stray dogs and cats, the rodent hunting is abundant for me! But one must be careful whether human or animal. Shady stories of meth dealing and using, gunshots, dunk driving, and abandoned babies in intersections are common knowledge in these parts. Strange cars come and go and occupants of the house change as often as underwear. Every so often even a tent city pops up with strange cooking smells coming from a fire pit. Lots of debris piles up and is left behind by these tent cities when the local authorities come around to disband them.

Finally, I save the best for last. At the end of Snowy Road there is a property with a few entertaining families. The gatekeeper at the front of the property is a twenty pound, nasty raccoon named Bandit. He usually leaves me alone if I flash him my talons. Further on is a pair of large, slobbery dogs in a fenced in yard. They are affable love bugs that watch me with interest until their owners call them inside. The owners are a sweet family of three. The dad sometimes catches me on a fencepost as he drives off to work. He stares in awe at the rare sight of me. Down towards the barn is a pigpen containing kind Hamlet. He always saves me a scrap from his slop bucket. I watch over him at night, and he wishes me sweet dreams as I fly off in the dawn. The newest members of Snowy Owl Lane is a family of enormous cottontails. They live under the house of the family of three. They love to spook the owners and dogs alike with early morning sightings in the yard, and strange thumping, chewing, and water sounds throughout the day. They must have quite the condo going on under that house!

This concludes my simple, country life. I hope you have enjoyed the tour and subsequent stories. If you ever find yourself in my neck of the woods, just remember an owl sighting can be both luck or omen. Sweet dreams!