A long-shot from the apartment yesterday morning.
The night before, Friday, when the snow started, I was looking out the window about 11pm. It was a white night, the lights of the city bouncing down from the low clouds. A large bird came from overhead, just a story or two higher than my fourth floor. It coasted with a light, easy motion of the wings. Its direction was northward. Towards Green-Wood, perhaps, five blocks away.
It was a magical moment. I’ve only seen owls flying a few times, mostly taking off from their roost at twilight as they begin their nocturnal rounds.
So here was the night’s great hunter, deep inside Brooklyn. In truth, there have been Great Horned Owls roosting in Green-Wood for years now. The same ones? I’ve long wondered about their range. Clearly, they go beyond the cemetery fence. We knew that from their nesting seasons in Prospect Park. In 2011, they had two fledglings. As far as I know that’s been their only successful breeding season. Not so long ago I went listening for them after nightfall; nothing was heard above the traffic.
And then the surprise of the owl flying overhead.