CBC 2011 Count Week

Every year in December I get so excited..not so much for Christmas, but for the Christmas Bird Count. This event occurs around the world, and I am lucky enough to participate in about a four mile by one mile stretch which includes my neighborhood. I take a week off from work to prepare for the count, and to find "count week," birds which are included as supplemental birds if not seen on count day. To be included in this category the bird must be seen within three days of the count, before or after.

The day before the count started I took a gamble on finding one of the most difficult, and most exciting, birds for the count. I had discovered it once before during count week about 8 years earlier, the first time it was recorded for this count "circle,' since its inception over 80 years ago. Even more interesting is the fact that this species is an owl, the Long-eared Owl to be exact. It can hide just by standing erect on a branch, letting its thin shape, tree-bark like plumage, and long ear tufts turn it into a broken off limb from a tree branch. In fact, one may even wonder if thick barked trees could be the descendant of this owl which seems to blend into his surroundings so well. My best hope for finding this master of camouflage would be to hope for habitual behavior on using roosting sites.

As I walked down the narrow path through the mesquite bosque I tried to relax and remove expectations while opening up my perception of the natural world surrounding me. Still, as I neared the bend toward the old roost I turned on my video camera to be ready for anything. His roost would be just right of the trail and within ten feet of it. As I turned the corner my eyes scoured the dead branches of its roost tree and found...nothing.

I was disappointed. I calmed my thoughts and reminded myself that the probability had been slim at best. I then sent a mental thought that I hoped that my friend over the years was at least doing fine, wherever he may be.

Then I turned left and noticed something out of place just above eye level just fifteen feet away. It was him, his slim appearance, facial markings, and vertical notched barring on his chest making it official. My camera slowly raised to my eyes as I documented my excitement on film, if only for a few seconds. Then I moved away and out of sight, silently thanking my friend for showing his presence, and glad to see him doing well after all these years.