Having a feeling that we might not be living full time in Florida next year, I made sure that I had “quality time” with my burrowing friends … the owls. Each year, the burrows and owls are often different and this year, nothing could have been more true. Like all wildlife, some owls are more “social” and required more personal space than others. In Florida, they are protected and the state mandates a safe viewing distance … that being said, the best rule of thumb after that is careful observation of the owl and watching for signs of distress or changes in behavior.
Other differences easily noted are the varied eye colors. Usually I see the normal yellow and some with darker brownish eyes, but this year it seemed that there were all the colors in between as well. This adult had those greenish brown eyes and his mate had yellow eyes.This little owlet was one of their babies (of 2) and as you can clearly see, it possessed those traditional yellow eyes, as did its sibling. These owls run a tidy ship and are frequently clearing out the opening to the burrow … sending lots of sand into the face and eyes of an onlooker.Even with just 2 babies, one is almost always clearly braver, or more inquisitive, than the other. Before long, you know exactly which one you’re dealing with.Owls are predators and possess sharp pointed beaks and claws, along with feet that are quite strong. Some are better hunters than others and it isn’t long before the little ones try to join in one the fun.The first feathers of the young owlets begin to be overtaken by more mature ones.While the feathers change, those big bright eyes never do. 🙂 Wonder what it’s so intent on spying in the air? Let’s see….So it’s a hawk flying overhead and I as well get nervous. Though I’ve seen it (and hope that I never will), they have been known to swoop on it and grab young birds, including these owlets. Usually the parents are quite aware and send an instantaneous alert for everyone to go into the burrow.Owls can be fascinating to observe and I’ve spent many mornings or afternoons (or both) with them. I just love it when the ruffle up their feathers … usually preceded or proceeded by a bow and a poop.By far, a favorite time of mine is when the little ones first discover their feet and claws. You can literally see their wheels turning as they investigate them … they pick them up, open them, close them, sometimes even turn them upside down and eventually put them down again. Often, they do it repeatedly. Reminds me of our own young when they discover their toes. 🙂Feeding ones mate and the hungry family is a never-ending task. Crickets or beetles are often consumed.Sometimes frogs are on the daily assortment and this one was obviously caught earlier and cached for the right moment.Lizards aren’t safe from them either. Often the male will taken them into the burrow for its mate, even if there are no babies apparent yet. Young ones don’t emerge from the burrow for at least 10 days, so it might be that she’s attending to them … or the eggs.Super special is when they’re both up and they transfer the delicacy from one to the other. It reminds me of a Lady and the Tramp moment … only with a frog instead of a strand of spaghetti. 🙂I think that owls get bored easily … for sometimes they just declare “war” on anything they can get their claws on.At this particular site, there are others present, like these resident monk parakeets. They’re quite beautiful and noisy when they fly by. This one was busy grabbing twigs to reinforce or build its nest.Sometimes people want to know which are the babies versus the adults. Of course, when they’re both out, it’s generally easy to ID them by size. However, there’s another dead giveaway … well except for those “hair plug” head feathers. If you notice the adult (in the back) had a pattern to its feathers throughout its belly, while the baby doesn’t have the striations yet. I call this the Kahlua look (OK, maybe that’s too much info … LOL).These young owlets are nothing if not curious … and they display all sorts of head angles when they’re trying to figure something out.Of course, the family unit shot is highly desired, but just like our own group shots, it’s difficult to get them all cooperate at the same time … let alone smile. 🙂When the kids are safe in the burrow, the parents take a few moments for themselves with some mutual grooming and “canoodling” (OK, so I guess that’s a made up word).Not sure what was going on here, but this male must have been in trouble and offering some sort of peace offering to its mate. “OK, will you forgive me if I share this mouse with you?”“If not, I’ll just eat it myself”.From an early age the owlets learn to recognize threats from above.This time, a red-tailed hawk. No worry though from this parent … no alarm call for cover … just a stare down. I wonder why?Owls have much better eyesight than humans and upon careful inspection in the viewfinder, I see why. See, this red-tailed hawk already has snatched a poor unfortunate baby bird for its dinner. (OK, I secretly hate this side of nature, but hawks have to eat too.)So the socializing above the burrow continues. Dad soon takes flight not far from where I was photographing and I wondered why.I noticed that before long it flew, with great difficulty, back to the burrow. Then I saw it … it had a bird of its own. To this day, I’ve never seen one with a bird before. I guess owls have to eat too. (no, not again) So my next favorite time with these young owlets is when they learn to use their wings to make short flights around the burrow. This one was quite happy and worked hard to impress its sibling and dad.“Look what I can do!”Meanwhile at another burrow, the youngs ones were just beginning to emerge. This time, both parents were yellow-eyed and the babies ran the gambit of eye color. There was some discrepancy about this burrow too, as some say the pair might have changed after the new ones were hatched.So, that’s this installment of the burrowing owls of south Florida for 2017. Lots more images to share, so stay tuned. I mean, how could you not with these eyes? 🙂Next up: A return to the wetlands
© 2017 Debbie Tubridy