Tales of the Citied Wilderness

I'm continually reminded that the wild has been here longer than we have been here.

On Sunday afternoon Amy and I were having lunch at a local Mediterranean restaurant.  We were sitting outside and enjoying the unseasonably warm weather when I noticed a commotion in a nearby tree.  There were two crows making an awful racket.  Usually the rackets in that part of town are the evening revelers having a good time down at the local bar.

At first I couldn't quite see what the crows were upset about.  Then I noticed a huddled figure along one of the branches and assumed it was a Red-tailed hawk.  After an extended time in which the two crows were joined by two others to take up their harangue of the intruder the bird took off, revealing that instead of a hawk it was a Barred Owl.

Barred Owl being mobbed by Amy Petersen

The flight of the owl quickly took it out of our sight and earshot with the four crows following close behind.  Throughout the rest of the meal I found myself look up into the tree and thinking of the owl.  Why it had been in such a visible location? What was it doing now? Why it was there in the first place?

There is a grace given us each time we encounter the wild.  I long for its touch each day.