Where we live, just north of Lake Pontchartrain and New Orleans, we have owls. I can hear momma owl every morning. Or maybe it's papa owl looking for his girl friend. Perhaps it's momma celebrating a successful night of hunting and reducing our mice, rat and snake population here in the rural part of the world we live in.
Occasionally, momma cannot find enough to feed her babies, so she has to hunt during the day. At those times, we can see her, not just hear her whoooo, whooos through the bedroom window just before dawn.
And see her we did. She is a barred owl. Her nest is in a snag across the street. We cannot see the nest, just as she wishes, but it's a perfect spot for an owl nest and she knows it.
Here she is on a tree branch mid afternoon. She is being greatly annoyed by a local mockingbird who claims that part of the world as his. In fact, he claims this entire acre as his. As you can see, she is deliberately avoiding him and looking for food in our ditch or our garden so she can bring it back to her nest.
That flutter of feathers at the lower left is the pesky mockingbird trying to make our owl get off his branch. He failed.
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Thank you for stopping by this morning.
