Rides, ramblings and rants on a motorcycle.
- We are scientists, too!
9.14.2008,9:31 PM
Come Home
To My Friends, the Great Horned Owls,
My dear friends, I miss you. Your hoots and conversations have been silent for some time now. I don't recall hearing your nightly conversations since before I was temporarily away from home for three months. And now you're gone.
I suppose you both have traded rent or tenant space with one of your cousins, lesser in presence but louder and annoying. The screech owl that has moved here in your absence lacks the respect of the night solitude and his voice cuts through the dark like a dull knife on a blackboard.
This evening he visited me on the fence post about 15 feet outside my windows and let me know, rather obnoxiously, that this was his place now. My efforts in rebuttal as I stood at the window failed to unseat him. Instead he stood his fence and screeched at me. Finally, my patience worn, I yelled at him. His reply was a rather long squeak. I really think he needs throat lozenges. I recommended some rats wrapped in eucalyptus but he ignored me and continued to squawk.
I fear, my friends, that my nights won't be as restful as they were with your gentle hoots. Yes, even as you two bickered on your respective utility pole tops. I miss seeing your large majestic forms silhouetted in the trees or on top of the posts. Your voices always made me smile and comforted me. You know this is your sanctuary as much as it is mine.
So, please, my dear large feathered friends; please return, boot out the screech owl and hoot to your hearts' desire.
Your friend always,
The Shadow
My dear friends, I miss you. Your hoots and conversations have been silent for some time now. I don't recall hearing your nightly conversations since before I was temporarily away from home for three months. And now you're gone.
I suppose you both have traded rent or tenant space with one of your cousins, lesser in presence but louder and annoying. The screech owl that has moved here in your absence lacks the respect of the night solitude and his voice cuts through the dark like a dull knife on a blackboard.
This evening he visited me on the fence post about 15 feet outside my windows and let me know, rather obnoxiously, that this was his place now. My efforts in rebuttal as I stood at the window failed to unseat him. Instead he stood his fence and screeched at me. Finally, my patience worn, I yelled at him. His reply was a rather long squeak. I really think he needs throat lozenges. I recommended some rats wrapped in eucalyptus but he ignored me and continued to squawk.
I fear, my friends, that my nights won't be as restful as they were with your gentle hoots. Yes, even as you two bickered on your respective utility pole tops. I miss seeing your large majestic forms silhouetted in the trees or on top of the posts. Your voices always made me smile and comforted me. You know this is your sanctuary as much as it is mine.
So, please, my dear large feathered friends; please return, boot out the screech owl and hoot to your hearts' desire.
Your friend always,
The Shadow
Labels: ramblings
