Another "Miracle of the Owl"

 The first miracle of an owl story on our farm is told in this post: https://lindafink.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-miracle-of-owl.html

The second one just happened this spring/summer. 

2019 was the last year Barn Owls nested on our farm, after nesting every year since we moved here in 1977... and probably before we moved here, as they nested in the old barn that was on the property. What happened in 2019 to cause their disappearance is not known for certain. I have thought it was because the man who came to band the owls, who wanted to band them because he thought it would be great to have a record of owls in western Oregon, kept them out of the nest box too long... which he did, so that he could get photos of every owlet with every one of his grandkids. If I'd only known before he arrived that he was bringing three generations with him... But I didn't and the owlets seemed to survive and all later fledged. However, that was the last year a Barn Owl nested in our barn... until this year.

In all fairness, it is possible one of the adults died as one adult did come back that fall, even leaving a dead mouse in the nest box once, as though trying to entice a mate. However, it left never to return. Nor did any of the owl children return... until this June.

This year's story starts long before this year. It begins with the East Cascades Audubon Society (ECAS) Winter Raptor Surveys. Johnny and I have long run two raptor survey routes for ECAS, one starting from our farm and traveling around Grand Ronde, Willamina and Sheridan. The Grand Ronde route we have driven for twenty years. I have a list of people who live along our route and are interested in birds and willing to help spot them in their neighborhood. 

One of those people was Blythe Eastman, who lived just a mile from us. I would tell my "route cooperators", as I called them, when we would be running our route and ask them to report any raptors they saw at their place that day. Blythe was mostly outdoors late at night because of health issues she had long been battling. Night time was when she could meditate and soak up the earth's healing vibes... hopefully. When Blythe heard owls calling at night, she would report to me. And when she heard a Barn Owl, she would will it to fly to our farm because she knew how much I missed our Barn Owls.

Blythe lost her battle with cancer on February 28, 2024. 

A legend told to me by a Grand Ronde tribal elder many years ago was: if a little owl comes to you during the day, it means that someone you love has died. I couldn't help thinking about that legend and somehow felt that if Blythe's spirit could send me an owl, she would. 

On March 12, two weeks after Blythe's passing, I heard a Barn Owl screech outside our bedroom window... and again  the next night. That was the first Barn Owl sound at our farm in years.

On March 16, when I went up into the barn loft to feed hay, a big white Barn Owl was sitting on the nest box platform in the barn loft. We had long ago disposed of the old nest box. The owl quickly flew out of the barn. That was the first Barn Owl seen on our farm since 2019!!

  Johnny immediately built a nest box and put it up on the nest box platform the very next day, March 17. On March 20, a big white Barn Owl flew out of the box when I went up to feed hay.

On April 7, I climbed up and shone my light into the box. A Barn Owl was in it! I checked again  three weeks later, April  21, and saw an owl sitting in a back corner of the nest box. possibly on eggs. On June 2nd an owl and four owlets were in the box. 

Ultimately, there were 5 baby owls. The only photo I got was of what I think is the youngest, after the others had fledged. Here's what I wrote to Blythe's family and friends on July 7th: Lots of begging baby owls outside tonight...mostly invisible in the dark. One peeked at me from out of the nest box when I went up into the loft to feed hay so I took its photo. I think this is the youngest. 

On July 13, when I went up during the day to check, since we would be putting hay into the barn again the next morning, there were no owls in the box. All had fledged. That night I sat outdoors at 9:30 to watch and listen for the owlets. They performed well, flying here and there and crash landing into the big fir next to the dead fir which was their favorite place to land. On an earlier night we had seen four of them in the bare tree. But this night, July 13, they preferred the thick fir where I could not see them. However, I did get a photo of one of them in the dead tree. 

 and cropped...

and lightened...

I am writing this on July 13, at 10:30 p.m., after coming in from photo taking. I can hear Indian drumming coming from neighbors... probably relatives of the tribal elder, long since passed away, who told me the Legend of the Owl long ago. And I am still hearing Blythe's owls, begging to be fed by their parents. 

There are lots of rodents available in our fields since we cut hay, so it's a very good time to be born, if you're a baby owl.

Thank you, Blythe