Note to the Owl Woods

A subtle hint of spring, in the way of a few days’ worth of warm air settling across the region—welcomed with open arms this time of year—though in late February, I hesitate to believe that a Montana winter is up and leaving just yet. I made this image a few years ago. It was June, and the young owlets were finally grown enough to allow mom a break from the nest bowl every now and then. The tail end of a spring rain encouraged some drying out of the wings in a nearby tree, and a few moments of passive listening to voles and pocket gophers in the grasses below. Time in the owl woods is measured by the sun drifting across the sky, and food deliveries that arrive by mid morning, and again in the late afternoon. When it’s too dark to see through the old growth that lines the western edge of that so familiar meadow, it’s time to go back home. As it turns out, life is simple when you simplify it. I look forward to more moments there soon.