Joshua and I had a hunch that there was a fair-weathered friend hanging out in our backyard when we found a white and tan striped feather on the ground last week. We quietly tucked it away for safe keeping. Perhaps, it came from a mighty hawk who passed by on the way to his next conquest.
I never imagined that the lovely feather came from a beautiful barred owl.
He made another appearance tonight with magnificent calls from the tall trees on the side of our house.
WHO COOKS FOR YOU? WHO COOKS FOR YOU ALL?
WHO COOKS FOR YOU? WHO COOKS FOR YOU ALL?
I managed to gather the faint calls on audio. Turn your speakers up loud. (The frog's wreeping and my rustling around drown him out a bit.) You can definitely hear his signature WHO COOKS FOR YOU? WHO COOKS FOR YOU ALL? in the background.
WHO COOKS FOR YOU, little owl? Why ME, of course. If you'll allow me. I think I'll name him Chef. So appropriate, wouldn't you say?


