Sunday, January 16, 2022

Raptor Saturday

Ravi, a Western Screech Owl, looks with apparent disinterest and possible distain at a piece of chopped up mouse offered her.
The last few days have been foggy in the Willamette Valley, which makes the distant tree lines and hills look mysterious (or disappear).  I confess I do appreciate it when the sun breaks through and makes everything brighter.  

Mostly overcast skies graced the Cascades Raptor Center when I arrived at the 10 opening, so I had diffuse lighting for photos. The best photos of the resident birds happen when they are outside of their aviaries, and I was lucky enough to get photos of Ravi, a Wester  Screech Owl, and Maple, a newly arrived Northern Saw-whet Owl.

Maple, a Northern Saw-whet owl, perches on a falconer's glove and peers behind her underneath a sign reading "Northern Saw-whet Owl."
Ravi was not very hungry, and was not very interested in the chopped up mouse offered to her.  Maple, on the other had, was obviously ravenous.  

What I learned during this visit is that the resident birds don't hunt live rodents released into their aviaries, that many of the residents either can't or don't know how to hunt, and that it would be dangerous for them to hunt within the confines of the aviaries because they might smack into a wall.  

I stayed until "The Hour of the Snackening," which is heralded by two-to-three-year-olds having a melt-down around 11:40 because their blood-sugar levels have tanked and they need their after-lunch nap.  

At home, I found Mark working on an art project on our (then) sunny deck.  A murder of crows flew overhead, raising an alarum of mobbing-caws, and our neighbor's chickens, which had been released for free-range foraging, raced to the sanctuary of their pen.  

"They're mobbing a raptor," I said, and raced inside for my camera.

Outside out front, what looked like the hawk from last month perched over the street on a power line.  I fiddled with manual settings, but only got a blurry photo of a the power line and some tail feathers as the hawk launched itself for an escape.  

Then the fog rolled back in.  

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