Winter was one of my favorite times of year on our educational farm, because in the few short weeks between mid-December and mid-February, we held our owl prowls. Three or four evenings during that time period, my good friend and local naturalist, Karen Holmes, packed up boxes full of owl paraphernalia - pellets, puppets and pictures, talons, tail feathers and tapes of every conceivable owl call - and set them up in our classroom where she entertained and educated as many as 30 people at a time with fascinating facts about local owl species.

When she was finished, I gave a quick spiel about the importance of maintaining a low profile by being as quiet as possible and keeping flashlights pointed at the ground. Karen had already demonstrated how well owls can hear by dropping a pin on the table and explaining that an owl could hear that same pin drop from a distance equal to the length of a football field.

The eyesight of owls is also legendary. Their eyes are about the same size as the human eye but are able to change focus much more rapidly and to gather and concentrate light about 100 times better than human orbs. Other characteristics allow them to keep from colliding with trees and other objects when flying at night.

Because owls are unable to roll their eyes, they must turn their entire head or bob it up and down to see around them. Unlike some cartoon versions, however, real life owls cannot swivel their heads in a 360-degree turn.

After everyone was thoroughly indoctrinated in owl prowl etiquette, we bundled up and walked a short distance through the fields - sometimes crunching through ice-crusted snow in moonlight so bright flashlights were unnecessary, to spots where, over the years, we had had success calling in owls. When we reached our destination, we settled in on blankets near the tree line to wait while Karen readied her tape recorder.

Soon, the distinctive whinny of a screech owl vibrated through the night. (Karen played her recordings at quite a high volume, and I was surprised by the soft, delicate trill the first time I heard an owl respond.) I leaned back, hat pulled up just high enough to hear and still provide some protection against the usually frigid air, and concentrated on the dark trees in front of me, trying not to be too distracted by falling stars.

Although we made no promises about the likelihood of seeing or even hearing an owl on these walks, we almost invariably heard at least one. Sometimes we had to wait 15 or 20 minutes, sometimes only two or three. On good nights, we caught a flash of a shadowy form gliding silently onto a branch. On the best nights, an owl flew in to a perch where we could observe it from a short distance.

The most thrilling and entertaining walk turned out not to be much of a walk at all. One especially cold January early on in our owl prowling, before we had an indoor facility and had to hold the slide show and presentation in the unheated barn, I had been hearing a number of screech owls near the house and barn. Because the snow was so deep that particular evening and everyone's blood was already the color and consistency of a blueberry Popsicle, we were hesitant about venturing too far into the "wilds."

Karen suggested we stop at the corner of the barn away from the garish orange glow of our security light. The group expelled a collective sigh of relief that we would be within easy walking distance of the warmth of waiting cars. Karen started her tape recorder, and as if on cue, a screech owl began calling back. Then, almost as if we had trained it to do so, it landed on a branch above our heads to the right, flew over our heads to a tree on our left then back to the right and so on in the direct beam of Karen's flashlight. Back and forth it flew, stopping to stare at us occasionally in mutual curiosity, for what seemed like a half-hour or more.

We had forgotten the cold and all thoughts of disappointing our patrons if we did not take them on the advertised "walk through the fields in search of owls" (a much-anticipated part of the program for city dwellers who did not have such pportunities where they lived). The little bird put on such a spectacular show that the whole group was mesmerized, and when it flew away at last, stood and stared at the now empty space where it had been, not knowing whether what they had seen had really happened or was simply a frozen figment of their imagination. Then everyone began to talk at once, as if needing to share the previous few minutes with someone who would appreciate them for what they were - a rare and extraordinary event that, for many, would never be repeated.

Karen and I knew that this early owl encounter would be the one by which we measured all future owl prowls. Not a fair yardstick, we realized even then. Nevertheless, from that moment on at every owl prowl, when I explained about the unpredictability of seeing or even hearing an owl, I felt compelled to tell the story of the little owl and, in the telling, the hope of another such encounter came alive again.

In the 30 to 40 owl prowls we held on the farm before I left in 2003, we heard at least one owl almost every time and saw the silhouettes of a few as they came in to see who was making all the commotion. Once, a screech owl flew within about 50 feet and watched us from a cedar tree for several minutes. But never again did we share another experience like the one that frigid night in January.
Karen is still doing owl prowls at the farm. Perhaps, this year will be the year.

If you are interested in calling owls, it is advisable to go out with a professional, since there are generally accepted owling ethics that should be followed. Some of the larger species prey on smaller species, so if you call a large owl in to small owl habitat, you may unwittingly be the agent of the smaller birds', and their young's, demise. It is also considered unsportsmanlike to call owls after the end of February since some species begin nesting in March and calling them off their nests at that time could disturb their breeding cycle.

Instead, try attending an event like the Winter Birding Festival scheduled for the weekend of February 18-20 in Sault Ste. Marie, which promises opportunities to see such species as the great horned owl, snowy owl, short-eared owl and Eastern screech owl, among many other birds. To learn more, call 906-632-3301 or send an e-mail to infor@saultstemarie.org.

You can also go out to likely owl habitat during the day and look for signs of owls, such as feathers (usually brown and white striped and fuzzy rather than shiny); droppings around the bottom of trees, especially snags; pellets (the undigested fur, feathers and bones of prey species that they regurgitate. If you pick apart the grayish lump with gloved fingers or a stick, you should be able to distinguish the various bones. Dissecting owl pellets is a great project to do with children. Sanitized pellets may be purchased on-line); or crows cawing and acting crazy, often a sign that there is a great horned owl in the area. Then return at night, and if you watch and listen carefully, you may be rewarded.

Some owls, themselves, are often visible during the daytime, including the snowy, short-eared and barred. The snowy can usually be seen near the ground in open areas but have also been observed in the city. Some have even made their winter home at Logan Airport in Boston!

Snowy owls hoot in deep, throaty WHOs all made at the same volume and pitch. Barred owls make a sound that some have likened to the question, "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?", with the last sound drawn out and descending in pitch and volume. Screech owls whinny softly like a horse, while long-eared owls hoot quietly. ("Long-and short-eared" is a misnomer, since the tufts on their heads that look like ears are really just feathers. Owl ears are holes in the side of the head similar to human ears but without the external flap.) Short-eared owls, on the other hand, have a whole repertoire of sounds, some of which have been described as a barking dog, chattering monkey, howling ghost and a woman being murdered.
Different owls rely on different habitats for their survival. They eat rodents, but depending on their size and habitat, may also eat insects, bats, frogs, salamanders, woodchucks, foxes, snakes, birds, including other owls and the occasional cat.

The short-eared owl and the barn owl are listed as endangered on the Michigan Natural Features Inventory and the long-eared owl is designated as threatened. Short-eareds nest on the ground and spend a good deal of time resting there, while barn owls like to nest in barns and abandoned buildings, which are disappearing throughout the country as more and more farms are sold for development. Long-eared owls make their homes in abandoned crow or hawk nests and live a "secretive" existence in the forest. Owls are sometimes hit by cars when they swoop down toward their prey.

To attract owls to your yard, you can erect large birdhouses with appropriate-sized holes (three inches for screech owls, six inches for barn owls) and plant thick groves of conifers near open meadows that provide habitat for shrews, mice, rabbits and other small mammals, reptiles, amphibians and insects. Also leave dead trees standing, and if you have a barn on your property, keep it there, if possible.
Owls are an important part of the food chain, as well as being fun to watch and hear. All of nature seems to be embodied in the single hoot of an owl on a clear, cold night. It is well worth stepping outside after dark. If nothing else, you might have a chance to wish upon a falling star.

To learn more about owls in Michigan search the web under "owl species in Michigan." Also check out the beautiful and informative book, The Owls of North America, by Allan Wright with illustrations by Karl Karalus (published by Weathervane Books, 1987).

You may email Karen at karen@lakeshoreguardian.com.