Yesterday I was walking the Coquille Trail in Jean Lafitte National Park south of town, and came upon a Barred Owl perched thirty feet above the trail, unobscured. It stared down at me and gave a long, high pitched cry- fussing at me. It repeated this at regular intervals, just seconds apart, while I stood and inspected it through the binculars. Remnant down on the head confirmed what was already apparent from its behavior: a recently fledged juvenile.
It kept fussing for minutes, weaving its head side to side in classic owl fashion. Sometimes when I would move it would give a start, but then settle back down. Two young Northern Parulas came in and began chipping at it: pale blue above, white wingbars and underparts, with just a hint of the yellow throat and breast.
The owl eventually flew off into the swamp, but quickly began its cry all over again, now out of sight.
Peter
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