LED BY AN OWL
Walking through the woods beside my cabin in full daylight, I noticed an owl fly over my head. I stopped and watched it as it circled me a few times.
Then it took off in a different direction than its original azimuth, quickly disappearing over the trees. I departed my plans (I can't remember what they were ... perhaps just taking a walk? maybe I had no plans) and left the dirt road and followed in the direction the owl had gone. I walked a while then quit. Now what?
The owl came from somewhere to my right at that moment and passed slowly over the top of me and exited my perceptions to the forward left. I followed that for a while. I cannot remember now how I determined where to stop -- it was in a little clearing each time, maybe that was the marking point -- but stop I did. Now what?
No kidding, the owl came over within seconds, and 'led' me in another direction. I wonder if the owl had been watching me from a perch, or if it could hear me and could tell when I stopped stomping on the bell-like earth, stumbling over unevennesses, crunching brush, breathing like a locomotive, and maybe even speaking aloud in my attempt to maintain contact with the owl. Whatever, whenever I stopped I had to wait only seconds until the owl passed overhead again.
The owl and I repeated this little routine 6 times, each time, I realize now, with about a 60 degree deviation each time to my left. At the end of these 'trips' I was standing where I had started, on the two-tire track dirt road, and the owl flew off in the direction he had been going when we first met.
Wildlife is much more intelligent than I gave credit when I was a kid. Octopuses (or is it octopi?) communicate with at least with dance and by changing their color through chromotoplasts. We are like, duh, stupid, in octopus language. I can't even stand on my tiptoes and turn black and white. Duh.
I think part of an owl's communication is direction and speed relative to the object with whom the the conversation is going, and relative the subject matter.
One other observation. I can imitate a few owl calls ... well, I thought I was pretty good. But when I make the sound that I think I hear, the deer are startled and start moving away. Somehow my sound is 'human'. I think the deer can 'hear' the human vocal cords. But when I make the owl call in my mouth with a dental-labial fricative, kind of a hum/whistle, the deer are not alarmed and the owl seems to be willing to accept the sound as conversation.
I felt blessed to have been part of this conversation.
Then it took off in a different direction than its original azimuth, quickly disappearing over the trees. I departed my plans (I can't remember what they were ... perhaps just taking a walk? maybe I had no plans) and left the dirt road and followed in the direction the owl had gone. I walked a while then quit. Now what?
The owl came from somewhere to my right at that moment and passed slowly over the top of me and exited my perceptions to the forward left. I followed that for a while. I cannot remember now how I determined where to stop -- it was in a little clearing each time, maybe that was the marking point -- but stop I did. Now what?
No kidding, the owl came over within seconds, and 'led' me in another direction. I wonder if the owl had been watching me from a perch, or if it could hear me and could tell when I stopped stomping on the bell-like earth, stumbling over unevennesses, crunching brush, breathing like a locomotive, and maybe even speaking aloud in my attempt to maintain contact with the owl. Whatever, whenever I stopped I had to wait only seconds until the owl passed overhead again.
The owl and I repeated this little routine 6 times, each time, I realize now, with about a 60 degree deviation each time to my left. At the end of these 'trips' I was standing where I had started, on the two-tire track dirt road, and the owl flew off in the direction he had been going when we first met.
Wildlife is much more intelligent than I gave credit when I was a kid. Octopuses (or is it octopi?) communicate with at least with dance and by changing their color through chromotoplasts. We are like, duh, stupid, in octopus language. I can't even stand on my tiptoes and turn black and white. Duh.
I think part of an owl's communication is direction and speed relative to the object with whom the the conversation is going, and relative the subject matter.
One other observation. I can imitate a few owl calls ... well, I thought I was pretty good. But when I make the sound that I think I hear, the deer are startled and start moving away. Somehow my sound is 'human'. I think the deer can 'hear' the human vocal cords. But when I make the owl call in my mouth with a dental-labial fricative, kind of a hum/whistle, the deer are not alarmed and the owl seems to be willing to accept the sound as conversation.
I felt blessed to have been part of this conversation.
posted by Thunderpen | 1:08 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home