The drive back from the hike showed us the rain was coming back soon. At home, we retreated to the porch to sit, sip, take in the night. Suddenly:
Our first thought: The fledgling which we had seen, under the watchful eyes of its barred owl parents, tumble out of a crook in a broken tree, its first flight not much of a success.
But, later, we had spied it up here:
But the sound came again. A fox. For sure. We waited. Finally, the fox drifted away.
We ventured into the woods where we’d seen the young owl. No sign of it. No sign of a tussle, no stray feathers. Adult gone, too. The day’s lesson done.
Walking back to the house, this is what we heard: