Wednesday, February 1, 2012
My blog for February 1, 2012 Night Owls
Last night, as I lay sandwiched between the man on the right reading with his night light and the dog on the floor, snoring impolitely, I decided to try out the loft. The loft is at the top of a red ladder, right outside of the bedroom door. In my nightgown and with my dot light in my hand, I climbed up about ten feet. With no standing room, I then got to crawl over to where the bed was supposed to be. Oh yeah, I had a dot light. When I figured out how to turn it on, I reached the little twin bed. Since I'd made it up in anticipation of some grandchild eventually coming to see her grandmother, I was able to snuggle down into its smallish comfort. As I began to doze off, Abby's dog alarm system went off in tune to a coyote just outside which sounded more like a dog than a baying scavanger. Combined with this cacophony, an owl chimed in with it's plantive "who who's". When the coyote ran off, the Abby barks lowered to rumbles and I could hear better, another owl "whootie whooed" way off across the canyon. Next there was a small chorus of whooties all around the house where there are a few trees, including the one off in the distance. Then apparently the owls did a change tree thing and the sounds came from different directions, still around the house. I don't know if this was a weird mating dance, a warning to wandering coyotes, or mating call thing or not, but it is Spring here, so I suspect it's why it took me four attempts to actually sleep. As I wandered to the front of the property yesterday a red tailed hawk screeched at me and flounced out of its nest overhead, flying in circles, explaining the error of my ways while its mate took up his/her own diatribe. I recognized this alarm system as a warning that I was too close to its nest. None of the trees get much higher than about thirty feet tall, so Mr. and Mrs. Hawk had made a nest on the top of a 40 ft. power pole, the better to see further I suppose. I tried to explain to them my innocence. But until I skedaddled away they continued their harangue. Mother Nature is alive and well in Escondido.