On a wild goose chase for owls
Most people seem to do the right thing most of the time. But
when a great big business does the right thing, it’s worth
noting.
I got an e-mail from an acquaintance last week, asking if I knew
of anyone who might check to see if the great-horned owls that used
to hang around a tower that rises above the old office building at
Blossom Hill Winery in Paicines are still there.
Well, that would be me.
On a wild goose chase for owls
Most people seem to do the right thing most of the time. But when a great big business does the right thing, it’s worth noting.
I got an e-mail from an acquaintance last week, asking if I knew of anyone who might check to see if the great-horned owls that used to hang around a tower that rises above the old office building at Blossom Hill Winery in Paicines are still there.
Well, that would be me.
So at day’s end I took off on a beautiful spring day. Filaree’s tiny blossoms are beginning to turn some fields purple, while others shine with carpets of mustard and goldfields.
At the winery, my friend left the office, and we slowly circled the old building. I’ve always admired it. Its weathered boards and tower make it look like a frontier fort, or a prop on the back lot at a movie company.
Once upon a time, great-horned owls roosted and probably nested in the tower. We circled, peering at gaps above floor joists and looking for pellets – balls of regurgitated fur and bone that the owls would have left behind – and the whitewash of their droppings.
Owls are a lot of magnificent things, but they’re terrible housekeepers, and they tend to leave a lot of evidence of their presence.
Fortunately, we came up empty. That’s good, because the building was due to be tented and fumigated. And that was the reason the winery wanted to be sure about the owls.
At the same time, the staff wanted the work done quickly. Swallows are returning to the region in numbers, and the building’s eaves protect a large collection of cliff swallow nests. The staff wanted fumigation wrapped up before the birds begin investigating their nest site.
As we talked, a pair of bald eagles circled high overhead, extending their talons and displaying for each other. Another pair, these red-tail hawks, was briefly visited by a third interloper. Turkey vultures rocked and tilted in the light breeze. High above, almost invisible, clouds of arriving swallows darted after unseen insects.
I can’t think of a better way to end a day at the office than to stand their in mute awe, watching all those different birds displaying their mastery of the skies in so many different ways.
Smiling like a fool as I returned to town, I paused to listen to western kingbirds’ mad chattering, and admired the clear sulfur yellow of their feathers.
We had not seen anything rare or noteworthy, but the sum of the flowers, birds and the lushness of spring together produced the rarest of pleasures.
