Four Feathers Studio

For the longest time, Barred Owls were an elusive inhabitant in Wonderland, heard in the night but never seen or for that matter photographed. Their adorable storybook call of “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?” will often wake me up in the middle of the night, and on rare occasions a very hilarious “Whooooo” is heard, uttered with the tonal flourish and dramatic distain that, hands down, rivals any line ever spoken by the incomparable actress Maggie Smith playing Violet Crawley, the Dowager Countess of Grantham, from Downtown Abbey. 

 

Fictional female British aristocracy aside, Barred Owls were never seen in Wonderland until March 2020, and since then I have had several enchanting encounters that I have been able to photograph. 

 

January’s photograph was taken on a very cold December morning. I was at my kitchen window when I noticed something quite large in the back Poplar trees. Through the binoculars I immediately saw that it was a Barred Owl, asleep in the warmth of the mid-morning sun. I grabbed my camera and headed outside. Ever so slowly and as carefully as I could, I walked down the center path in the field, stopping every now and then to take a photograph in case the owl flew away, but the owl didn’t move. I kept this up until I was just underneath the Poplar trees, about 10 feet away. At this point, the owl opened a slow eye to tell me that I wasn’t as quiet as I thought I might be, and with a bemused arch of her eyebrow feathers, she seemed to say “Seriously?” But she humored me and my camera for about fifteen minutes, and then just me with my camera off, sitting in the snow looking up at her. With every inhaled breath, I sought to feel her company and understand her mystery—the grace, the fierceness, the quietness of being. Our quiet moments shared—no past, no future—just us breathing in the grace of a winter’s sun.