Aura of the owl

If you could see any type of bird in the Inland Northwest, what would it be?

For most people, birders and nonbirders alike, the answer to that question would be an owl. For lots of reasons, I'd have to admit to that desire myself.

Hummingbirds are popular in the spring and summer. Eagles are very popular this time of year. Others might choose various majestic, colorful, or melodious birds based on personal preferences, but it would be hard to reach a consensus as to which group of these was the more desirable.

Owls, however, are almost universally appreciated. In fact, many birders and nonbirders alike are downright awestruck when able to see one in the wild. Some who would hardly look out a window if a bird came and sat on the sill would go to great lengths for the opportunity to be in the presence of a real, live owl.

Part of the allure, at least for birders, may be that owls are usually a challenge to find, even the common ones, since most are active at night and are adept at hiding out during the day.

Hummingbirds are relatively easy to attract to feeders in the summer. Eagles are also relatively easy to see if one is willing to brave the cold and snow for a trip to Lake Coeur d'Alene's Wolf Lodge Bay in December and January. And most of the colorful or melodious birds will be relatively easy to spot because their plumage or song announces them.

But it is more than simply the challenge. There is something about owls that grabs at our imagination, conjures up more than the awe of beauty or the thrill of a sound, even scares us a little.

Owls are prominent in folklore and in literature in a way that other birds are not. Owls are used to represent intelligence, and are often associated with magic. They seem mysterious, and are sometimes used as omens of death.

Part of this aura comes from an owl's appearance. An owl's face is flat and its eyes are set far forward compared to other birds, giving them a more human-like appearance. Part is due to their behavior. Owls are generally active in the twilight or at night. They hunt silently on wings equipped with feathers designed to muffle the sound of their passing, making them seem almost ghost-like when encountered in flight.

When seen at close range, owls have a piercing stare from eyes that are thoroughly captivating. In addition to often being bright yellow, owl eyes are the largest found in any birds, and they do not rotate. Thus an owl must move its whole head to change its view. Certainly this facilitates its stare.

In the absence of eye movement, neck agility reaches an extreme, with owls able to rotate their heads 270 degrees in each direction. Can you imagine the view you'd have? Rapid rotation back and forth can give the illusion of a head coming unscrewed.

Most owl faces are also accentuated by a facial disk, an arrangement of feathers that reflects sound to their ears, which are hidden on the side of the head as in all other birds. Owl "ears" or "horns" are simply feather tufts and have no relation to mammalian ear flaps, and are not even in the vicinity of the ears.

Hearing is extremely acute in owls. They often locate their prey strictly by sound, and can even successfully target mice hidden beneath a layer of snow.

These characteristics are shared by most of the night hunting, or nocturnal species of owls in our area, of which there are many. Nineteen species of owls breed in North America, and 15 of these are found in various parts of Washington and North Idaho.

Nine of these species are mostly or strictly nocturnal. These are the barn owl, the flammulated owl, the great horned owl, the barred owl, the spotted owl, the long-eared owl, the northern saw-whet owl (these six species are all generally forest-dwelling), the western screech-owl (often city-dwelling), and the boreal owl (a rare, high elevation species).

There are another four species that hunt primarily in the twilight of sunrise and sunset, the crepuscular (I love that word) owls. The short-eared owl is the strictest crepuscular example. The great gray owl (our largest, but not heaviest owl), the snowy owl (a winter visitor only) and the northern hawk owl (a rare Canadian visitor) are often most active at dawn and dusk, but actually hunt anytime, day or night.

The final two owls of the Inland Northwest are daylight-hunters, or diurnal species. Both are unique in many ways. The increasingly rare burrowing owl, as its name implies, is a ground-dwelling species. And last, but not least (well actually, it is the least from a size standpoint), the northern pygmy-owl is unique among the unique.

Owls are indeed unique among the birds. They are even unique among the birds of prey. Though their beaks and feet, and even their hunting styles are similar to the hawks and falcons (northern hawk owls are very falconlike), owls are not at all closely related to these other groups.

The northern pygmy-owl, however, has its own set of special features. First of all, as I've already alluded to, and as their name implies, pygmyowls are small. As a puffed-up ball of feathers, especially on a dreary winter afternoon, these little guys may not appear all that small. But underneath, there's a birdie body no bigger than a large sparrow that weighs less than three ounces.

Pygmy-owls must seem mighty large to their prey, however. For their size, these guys are about the most aggressive hunters there are. Pygmies routinely take voles (large, shorttailed, short-eared, uniformly dark gray mice) that are at least as heavy as they are. And then they fly up to a high perch, carrying this load, to eat.

Pygmy-owls also occasionally will take mammal prey as large as squirrels and small rabbits. Where pygmies become truly amazing is in their ability to take bird prey on the wing. Pygmy-owl wing span is only about 15 inches and the wings are stubby, but they can fly!

In a form to make a sharp-shinned hawk or a merlin proud, pygmy- owls will swoop through a flock of birds and land with a dead former flock member before the other birds realize what's happened. Or, as an alternative strategy, the owl may simply fly into a thick shrub or bush and body-slam its prey.

Here again, these are not necessarily little, slow food items. In fact, pygmy-owls will take bird prey over twice their own size, as large as quail and as swift as doves. And then they fly off with this big and hearty meal.

Even in the eating, pygmies are unique among the owls. While most owls swallow their food whole and will regurgitate a pellet of undigested fur and bone, pygmy-owls usually pick their food apart, stripping it of feathers or hair first, and discarding the bones in the end.

Such a feeding strategy is slower than the gulp-and-run technique a barn owl or a great horned owl will use. But the pygmy-owl is in no hurry. In fact, when winter hunting is good, these ferocious little killers take extra items back to a cache for later, more leisurely consumption.

Since their hunting is carried out in daylight, pygmy-owls are also unique among the owls in relying almost entirely upon their sight. They can probably hear pretty well, too, but the pygmy-owl's typical day is spent on a high perch, surveying a field or meadow for movement, all the while bobbing its head and twitching its tail.

When the pygmy-owl does attack, since it relies on speed and power and not on stealth, its wings are not affixed with the typical owl muffler system. They are as noisy as any other daytime bird predator.

Since pygmy-owls hunt in daylight, and often hunt from an exposed perch, I am sure that they too must be prone to predation by other bird hunters. Either by accident or design, these little "earless" owls have two feather patterns on the back of their necks that look like eyes.

Having seen these guys in the field, rotating their heads as they hunt, it's not too hard to imagine a predator, approaching rapidly from the rear, suddenly seeing these eye-spots, and, assuming it's been spotted, aborting the attack.

As I indicated before, owls are never easy to find, but now is the best time to have a chance of seeing northern pygmy-owls. Although they are usually a summer bird of the high mountains, generally above 3,000 feet, in the winter, pygmies make an elevational migration into our area where conditions should not be as harsh.

My first pygmy-owl, however, was a summer resident of the Blue Mountains above Walla Walla. I first heard it calling, and did not recognize it for anything I knew. Pygmy-owls are quite territorial year round, as you might expect for such a pugnacious little species (perhaps similar to the inexplicable little-dog syndrome we see so often in interactions with big dogs), and they call often to reinforce their claims of ownership.

In searching out the strange noise, I found the owl atop a narrow snag on an open hillside. I approached cautiously, wanting the best view possible from my obviously exposed vantage. More than once I halted abruptly as the swiveling head revealed first real eyes, then the very convincing eye spots. But soon I realized that the owl cared not at all about my close approach.

Finally, I was standing at the base of the snag, being totally ignored, and feeling rather foolish. Out of frustration, and probably a fair amount of annoyance at being so disregarded, I shouted at the bird to make it fly. Still it ignored me. I finally shook the spindly little perch, and, with some difficulty, at last made the owl fly.

I will never forget the disdain I saw in that owl's eyes as it nonchalantly flew away - and all I was seeing was its thoroughly convincing eye spots. Such boldness is the hallmark of this smallest of the extremely unusual, but, oh, so captivating group we recognize as the owls.

This sidebar appeared with the story in the North Side Voice, January 15, 2004:

WHERE TO WRITE

Birding questions

Are there birds at your backyard feeder that you can't identify? Do you have questions about a bird that you saw on a walk around your neighborhood or during a drive around the community?

Stephen L. Lindsay is an avid birder and encourages readers to e- mail him with birding questions.

When possible, he will respond in future columns. His e-mail address is slindsay@my180.net.

To read Lindsay's answers to reader questions about Northwest birds, visit www.spokesmanreview.com.

Copyright 2004 Cowles Publishing Company
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