Tag Archives: owl

Bubo’s Laugh

Have you ever heard a great horned owl laugh? Probably not, and you can chalk that up as a positive in your book. Native American legends state that if you hear the laugh of a great horned owl, then you are a pawn in a joke larger than you can recognize.

I recognized why Bubo was laughing last night.

For the past month I have been building a flying machine in the shed in the garden. In between the digging equipment and the jars of seeds, I’ve been hammering and bolt-tightening and following intricate blueprints that I drew up over the winter months. Last night’s gentle winds and clear skies seemed the perfect night for a test flight.

If you are about to attempt to fly, and nature has not intended you to fly, do not attempt it in front of a bird. They are brutally arrogant about their flying ability.

As they should be, they do it quite well. And it looks effortless, doesn’t it?

Perhaps I should have started on the roof of the house, but I didn’t want to be spotted by neighbors, should there be any midnight promenades going on. Instead I chose the roof of the shed, which – while not nearly high enough – is under cover of thick trees and I was certain I could quickly get enough lift.

I was wrong. It seems my fall knocked me unconscious and when I woke my goggles were askew and my ankle was smarting impressively. The flying machine sustained minor damage as well. I am not concerned so much about my ego – an inventor learns to be humble at an early stage – but Bubo is insufferable in this type of situation.

You see, I had ignored a change she’d made on the blueprint. A change that might have altered last night’s un-flight.

Most great horned owls are as good with a pencil as a man is with wings. Unfortunately, Bubo has beautiful penmanship. And she’s rather a whiz at math as well.

This whiskey will help ease the pain in my ankles and help me ignore her self-satisfied twitters.


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Haugh Are You?

Each spring, when the weather has turned fully towards summer, The Haugh pops out of its winter den. A social and hilarious creature, The Haugh prefers the energy and clime of the warmer months, and so, once winter has finally ended, it bursts forth from the earth and crows “Hwhaaat!”

More reliable a barometer than the fickle ground hog, and far more fun at a party, it seems as though The Haugh’s emergence in May would be the more logical media event than February’s Groundhog Day. Let it be known that those men in the natty top hats and mourning jackets refuse to be upstaged on the local news. So, the docile and rather un-assuming ground hog was chosen, though his predictions are often vague and lukewarm.

He’s also easier to schedule. The Haugh takes to time tables like an owl takes to knitting needles.

So get outside. Look for The Haugh. Greet it merrily with your own “Hwhat”. I did. And I’ve had a spring in my step all day.

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All birds tweet, but not all tweets are birds

Bubo is convinced that all of you on Twitter are fellow avifauna.

Follow our tweets and give the little owl something to crow about.

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