December 29, 2008
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I spent another productive day puttering around the house: completed four loads of laundry (it was finally warm enough to wash and hang the bedding and other linens on the line!), finished Cap’n Crunch designed by Jennifer Adams, and ran errands in town, complete with a trip to my local independently owned book store to pick up a soup cook book.
Just before I went out the door to run errands, I look up from the counter in the kitchen towards the garden and chicken coop to see Allan running frantically towards the house. My heart lurched. The only thing I could think of is that something got into the hen house and left a red feathery mess. I shuddered to think of the clean up. Luckily, and to my great joy, he was running to get his camera, smiling.
After he caught his breath and had his camera in hand, he was able to tell me that there is an owl in the hen house. An owl? In the hen house? Yes, an owl in our hen house. How he got in there and why he stayed, I don’t know, but there was indeed an owl in our hen house. I’ve never been so close to an owl in my life. What a beautiful creature: poised, powerful, and elegent. No wonder owls have such a mixed history with some civilizations honoring them and some fearing them.
Here is a portrait of our sage visitor with an odd curfew.
barred owl in our hen house