MY SUMMER OF SCREECH OWLS: THE THINGS WE SEE WHEN THERE’S TIME TO SIT STILL

摘要

The owls came to me this summer. I think it’s because of Covid—whether they have always come and I only noticed them because I’ve been home so much or because, as some friends of a more mystical bent suggest, they have chosen me to bring good tidings. I’ve heard the screech owls during previous summers as they called to each other from my catalpa tree, the next door neighbor’s roof, and the hawthorn tree down the street. Their unmistakable call is nothing like screeching. It’s more like chuckling. Perhaps I should track down the people at whatever Avian Bird Naming Society is out there to suggest they officially change the name to Chuckling owls.