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December 25th 2009

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    Juncos this year are few, but the Phoebe is still apparent.  Flickers in the grass.  Field Sparrows happy amongst Laurels.  Distant things that flap and require acute vision to identify, but someone saw the young Barred Owl close up.  A few feet away. 

   It was afternoon.  He was just outside the window staring in, and to see those eyes was enough to raise an alarm which the Barred Owl heard and he was gone by the time I got there.

    

    These things happen.  They are accidental circumstances in the patterns of life.   Then when the moment has become past, there is a memory which lingers and over time changes. 

    He'll be out there still.  Learning to spend his daylight hours hidden from crows by finding those places that keep him safe.  

    And as he becomes wise our chance of seeing him diminishes.  Which is good for him, I suppose.  

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tim candler

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