The Night Owls

The dimmed red numbers on the bedroom alarm showed 4:29am. A large, leathered hand came across and hit the shut off before the alarm. Farmer Jim looked over to his wife who was right beside him in the barn all night helping a cow with her newborn calf. As he descended the stairs of the 120-year-old family farmhouse, the morning wisp of fresh coffee brewing and the thumping of Chase’s tail in the mudroom makes him smile every morning. He went to the mudroom and took the barn clothes of the twisted metal hooks on the wall and sat on the bench while his trusty old lab ambled over for the morning pat on the head. The Team left the house towards the barn inhaling the crisp morning air as the sunrise was clambering to rise above the sight line of the farm fields. He looked over to where the deer herd comes out for the morning feed. He did not mind deer sharing his fields. Generations of his family have been stewards of the land many years before it was a cliché. Poachers knew not to come close to the Benson farm fields.

As he turned the cobwebbed lights on in the barn, his cow and newborn calf were doing well despite being exhausted like him from being up all night. Farmer Jim and his wife are also the landlords for a Barn Owl pair up in the rafters near the hay mound upper door. They seen the male band number #87 leave for the hunt last night to bring his mate food while she was sitting on eggs waiting patiently for the first set of owlets. Farmer Jim climbed the ladder part way and saw her peering out into the morning fields awaiting a delivered meal. He smiled and descended to do the morning chores.

The round dish face of her face is like a satellite dish directing sound to her ears. She noticed a barn rat scurrying along the beam on its way to the grain silo for spilled grains. Her instincts told her to stay on the eggs despite the hunger she felt. She turned and looked out the upper door as the sun was burning dew of the rusted galvanized roof in drips. He hasn’t returned at all through the night and she strained to look at all she could see out the door with worry setting in.

Out on the highway a few miles from the barn, last night in the moonlight, mice were active in the median looking through garbage littered out by passersby vehicles. The coffee cups had delicious remanence of cream and sugar along with other fast-food containers provided the field mice s non-natural food source. Sitting on the hydro line above, #87 learned this early in his life and considered this a smorgasbord with little effort and energy required. His tufted feathers and drop speed made him a silent killer in rodent population dynamics. Normally during breeding season, he was successful returning at least three times providing food. However, there were many missed attempts amongst oncoming head lighted traffic did occur causing the shadowing and zig zag escape movement of the garbage mice who knew he was above nearby.

She ruffled her feathers, hunkered down to keep the eggs warm and loyally waited for #87, she knew in her heart, he would return. That day Farmer Jim went up the ladder again and saw #87 had not returned at dusk and became concerned for the owl family. He decided to set mouse traps throughout the barn just in case. Farmer Jim and his wife worked with the local naturalists and participated in the owl recovery and banding program. He notified the group of the missing #87 and put them on alert. The next day he went up and carefully lowered the fresh caught mice with a long fly-fishing rod. She was edgy but knew his face daily as he and his wife did spot checks. She looked at the mice but still believed #87 would return with a warm meal.

Hunger built up later in the day and she reached over and swallowed the whole mouse. Farmer Jim was used to providing food for cities, his livestock, but feeding an owl added to his busy day but he did not mind. The Bensons became worried each day about #87 and started to accept he was not returning. A week later, Farmer Jim’s local Veterinarian came to check on his livestock. Farmer Jim mentioned his night owl dilemma and the doctors face lit up! He relayed a colleague neighboring vet had a person bring in an owl that was hit by a car. The people stopped and took the owl to their vet the next day. The vet repaired the wing femur with a pin and the owl was now doing well. It went through the veterinarian network of #87 plight and questions where he came from. A week later, coming up the farm lane, #87 returned home in the vet’s truck. The female owl mother to be …knew he would. If night owl #87 would say if he could talk “Littering harms and/or kills wildlife.”