A few weeks ago we got a visitor. We knew it wasn’t human, but past that, we weren’t taking bets. It sounded like someone was raking concrete….. in the forest behind our house. We wondered if it was bats. We wondered if it was a band of exotic birds that moved in because of global warming. We wondered if we’d ever sleep again.
It starts up every evening at sundown. It goes like this:
Yes, there was a cat’s meow in there, too. That’s just part of nature at our house.
But I’m writing about the raking sound. Keep focused on the raking sound, OK? Please understand that we can’t focus on much else.
I posted on Nextdoor, the source of all local wisdom. You used to have to find a wise guy with a long white beard sitting over a campfire.
Things have changed.
Anyway, my neighbors, whom I could have talked to on the driveway but instead with whom I exchanged electronic messages sent over miles to servers which then translated them and bounced them back, told me they were barn owls.
A lovely little family of barn owls living in our redwood tree.
Really? I wanted an exotic explanation, and I got barn owls.
Sure enough, my son and I went down and saw this mess under one of our redwoods:
So, OK, we love nature. But does anyone know an owl sharpshooter? Because we could really use some sleep! We’ve got the white noise generator (affectionately termed the “windge” when nothing else would get our preschooler to sleep), up as far as we can stand it.
I dream of raking concrete. Really.
When I was young, I would put up with many things. I would put up with my cats sleeping on my face.
But now, having raised two children, I have my priorities. And my priorities are sleep, sleep, and sleep.
Before the barn owls, we had golden eagles. I’ll tell you, I know which kind of neighbors I prefer.
Anyone know how to serve an eviction notice on owls? Anyone want a nice home, set back from the street, super quiet?
We might have one to sell you.
