Throwing in the Towel at the Owl Prowl

8 AM at Braddock's Bay State Park.  We joined a small group of people interested in being guided through the "owl woods" by a genuine bird-watching expert.

We looked high, we looked low.  We looked in the short spruces for the tiny Saw-whet owls.  They sleep near the trunks, not far off the ground.  Or so we were told.  Maybe it's true.  We saw white spots on the branches where the owls are supposed to be, so it could be that our timing was bad.

The Horned Owls hide 30 to 40 feet up in the pines.  Since they're way up there and we're way down here, the odds of spotting one are low, particularly since they often tuck themselves in behind limbs.  

But both the cardinals and humans knew the owls were there.

The droppings, the testament to a meal, and a fresh owl pellet gave credence to the thought at least one was near, even if not to be seen.  A pellet is the regurgitated remains of a meal after all the digestible portions have been processed.  

We learned a great deal about the owls, and plan to come back during the migration to the northeast which is blocked by the cold air above the cold waters of our fresh-water ocean named Ontario.  

Though our owl count was zero, you can't go terribly wrong with a walk in the woods on a cool but pleasant morning.  So Mary and I continued to another portion of the park.

Watching bird-watchers watching birds.
Do you think the birds watch the humans?

Certainly, this sparrow does.
I suppose I am on his turf.

Swallow on the rail.
That's about the only time one will get a picture.
In flight, not much chance.
Perhaps a new challenge...I love to see them in flight.

Sky roots.

Why not a Red-and-Yellow-Winged Blackbird?
Or a Red-and-Yellow-Shouldered Blackbird?
Let's get this right.
Blackbirds matter.

Ready for takeoff.

Puffy cattails backlit by the sun.
The look is cotton-candy, but I did not taste.

They go on and on.
Please don't let the the invasive phragmites supplant you.