I was taking a walk at our local Wier Hill at dusk after the heat of the day when two barred owls flew to a branch next to the trail. I heard them before I saw them… making an odd screeching noise, not the expected “whooo, whoo cooks for you?” At first I thought it was a hawk with a large piece of prey, and then realized there were two of them, looking right at me. They bobbed their heads around in circles. Then flew off.
It turns out there were three of them and those on the hill that day got quite a show, standing carefully at a distance. I met a family from Ohio visiting their son during his summer internship in Burlington, with two incredibly (!) patient and quiet dogs. I told them I’ve lived in North Andover for 27 years and had never seen such a thing before. I told them that living owls in town was wonderful and heartening as so many have died from rodenticide poisoning. They told me about other owl sightings they’d seen, that their son is majoring in environmental policy back in Ohio, that they’d hiked the Appalachian Trail, that she was a teacher and they were out in their camper for three weeks. Honestly, if they weren’t from Ohio, I would have told them about North Parish. I felt that temporary but intimate bond of witnessing a wonder together, strangers become co-wonderers at the miracles of life, co-witnesses of the beauty and mystery of our fellow earth creatures.
The sounds continued (were they defending territory? mating? warning the humans away?) and they flew back and forth from tree to tree to stump to ground to tree within eyesight for a long time as dusk fell on us further and the mosquitoes came out. Finally, the mosquitos and descending dark won out and it was time to leave them to their business of perching on branches, together and apart.
The experience didn’t require travel to faraway places. How lucky we are to live in a valley with creatures such as these. I hope, whatever your summer is bringing you, that there are moments of wonder in it.
In faith,
Rev. Lee