LIMINAL

For years, I heard the hoots before I ever saw her. Her calls moved through the woodland at night, present but unseen. Season after season, the sound returned, familiar and steady, sometimes answering one or two others in the distance. Then one winter morning, she appeared in the open, perched just beyond my window.

It’s been fascinating to learn how many owl species pass through our area, most of them never seen. Understanding their calls, their rhythms, the quiet ways they move through the landscape. That curiosity eventually led to a visit to a raptor conservatory, where my husband surprised me with the chance to meet owls in rehabilitation and learn their stories through the people caring for them. It did not cure the fascination.