BURROWING OWLS

Sometimes book learning doesn’t count for much — in Bird World this is often true. You may cram your head full of facts and figures, but until you’ve seen a bird with your very own eyes, knowing all about it doesn’t count.
     And this is why I’ve waited so long before tackling the Burrowing Owls. These small, long-legged owls of the prairie have long held my imagination — an owl that lives in a hole in the ground is something worth thinking about!
     But until the other day, I couldn’t find a Burrowing Owl to save my life, even though I’d been haunting all the likely places they can be found at every conceivable hour. I seemed to have fallen under some kind of magical spell (except it wasn’t the good kind).
     No other bird has given me this much trouble. And it’s not that Burrowing Owls are rare — they are fairly common throughout the western prairies, synonymous with prairie-dog towns, and frequently seen at dusk and dawn.
     Burrowing Owls are sometimes known as the “howdy owls,” a nickname given by cowboys who saw that the owls would bob their heads in greeting, saying “howdy” as the cowboys rode by. The owls bob their heads because their eyes are fixed inside the sockets — the bobbing up and down improves their view.
     Learning of this happy nickname, though, only made me wonder why the howdy owls wouldn’t come out and say “howdy” to me?!? It didn’t seem fair, but since I couldn’t seem to find one with my very own eyes, I sat down and did some more homework.
     These small owls of the open prairie are named for the abandoned prairie-dog burrows they often inhabit. Their color is the same as the prairie when it’s bare: tan, sandy-brown, and white. There’s a pattern of streaks on their wings and back like dry sand next to wet. Across the chest are streaks running east to west that don’t quite meet in the middle.
     When perched, a Burrowing Owl is exactly as tall as a meadowlark, between 9 and 10 inches. And like a meadowlark, a Burrowing Owl has a short tail and perches on long skinny legs. But a meadowlark has a very pointed profile — a Burrowing Owl’s head is entirely round.
     Another clue that it’s an owl and not a meadowlark is the length of the wings in flight. A meadowlark’s wingspan is modest at 14 inches — the owl’s wingspan is a full third bigger, 21 inches in all. When an owl flies, those long wings beat deeply and with purpose — another reason an owl can fly so quickly out of sight.
     Armed with my facts and figures, I continued to search for owls. I was convinced that if I could just see one, the magic spell would be broken, and I’d have no trouble after that. I’d have a template of memory and owl-like posture to guide me, a sense of proportion, and likely locations. I was convinced that they were out there, I only doubted my ability to see.
     Then one day, it happened! I drove past a fencepost, and on it sat a Burrowing Owl. The light was failing, but the owl was clear: it was shaped like a comma in streaky tan, balancing on two long legs. As I peered through the dim light of evening, a pair of round, golden eyes met mine. Expressive eyebrows gave it look of deep concentration. It almost looked as though it was learning how to recognize me!
     Since then, the spell is broken. Burrowing Owls reveal themselves on a regular basis now — perched or flying away like big pale moths. Now that I’ve finally learned to see them, perhaps they will continue to appear.