An Owl at Twilight.

Today’s twilight treat was the unfamiliar call of an apparently unfamiliar owl. I knew it wasn’t a Barn Owl or a Tawny Owl and curiosity was the order of the moment. 

 

So I looked it up

In my book of birds

 

And the sound

I found 

 

Was precisely what

I’d heard

 

It was, apparently, a Little Owl, which chalks up yet another first to this Year of Firsts.

Another first happened yesterday afternoon when I saw countless sparrows flying over my head en route to the big sycamore tree at the bottom of the garden. It’s common enough to see small groups of sparrows flying together from one hedgerow to another, but this was something completely different. This had the appearance of a mass migration on the scale of the biblical exodus. Where had they come from, I wondered, and where were they going?

Well, actually, I could see where they were going. I’ve already said so, haven’t I? There being no Red Sea in the vicinity, they were heading for the big sycamore tree at the bottom of the garden. By an odd coincidence, it was the very same tree from which I was to hear an unfamiliar owl calling a little over twenty four hours later. I’ve long suspected that there is magic in that tree, and I’m content to admit that I’m ever more given to improbable and unprovable speculations the older I get.

 

*  *  *

I’ve been feeling grouchy and unsettled all day today. I was called out of bed prematurely by the desire to visit the bathroom early this morning. And then I was awoken again a little later, but also prematurely, by noise from the neighbours who rise much earlier than I do. I got up at that point, but still felt the same condition of weariness, depression and general dysfunction as I always feel for about an hour after getting out of bed. Today it lasted all day. It probably explains the mood swings and the writing of poor and pointless blog posts.

And I just ate two rice cakes because one wasn’t enough.