Spotted on my walk (but not today) – Photo: L. Weikel
Owl Shagging Moon
The full moon making its appearance this Monday evening (6:48 p.m. EST on January 17th) is often referred to as the Wolf Moon. Given the paucity of wolves in our local environs, at least, and also based upon my personal observations (at least audibly), I propose it is more appropriately named the Owl Shagging Moon.
Most of our walks this week took place at dusk. Despite of our best intentions, inevitably the sun is making its last hurrah just as we get going. On the plus side, I’ve captured some stunning sunsets on my iPhone. And while I hope I’ll never tire of appreciating the magnificence of these works of art, I’ve become acutely aware of something else happening recently, just after the sun dips below the horizon.
All of a sudden, literally moments after the sun’s brilliant, usually carnelian visage slips beyond our view, a chorus of Great Horned Owl hoots starts bouncing off the massive walls of rock carved by Tohickon Creek through the millennia.
Hoot; counter-hoot. Sometimes hoots overlapping each other. One thing I can tell you: I’ve heard more hoots in the past week than I usually hear the rest of the year combined. It’s mating time, baby!
In the glow of a July night – Photo: L. Weikel
Some Action Happening
I can only surmise there’s some action happening in the treetops, and sometime in March we can expect some owlets to be hatching. Not that I’d be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of them. But a girl can dream.
This has been the most active January (hooting-wise) I can remember in quite a while. It could just be a function of the time of day we’re walking, or the relative mildness of the weather we’ve had recently compared to other years. But hearing them calling to each other yet again this evening reminded me that I do think this full moon needs to be re-named. I can’t say I’ve heard a single wolf howl. (Thank goodness, given where we live!)
The calls of the Great Horned Owls are kind of a lovely reminder of how fertile our nesting can be during the cold moons of January and February.
It makes me ponder what I can do right now that’s playful, satisfying, and inherently creative, that just might lead to something new hatching in 6-8 weeks.
(T+39)