We first heard this Barred Owl around Jane’s parent’s cabin about four years ago. At least I presume it was this owl. I’ve only seen it about four times now, and the only times I’ve seen it are when there are practically no leaves on the trees. Otherwise they are just too good at blending in and not moving. Yesterday it made itself visible to about 8 of us by flying down from a high perch, swooping in and out of trees on the way down before gliding up to another high perch across the lot. When it landed it turned to face us, and it remained there for a solid five minutes of gawking and over-excited narration by me. I’m prone to that sort of thing, unabashed and persistent enthusiasm for middle-brow birding. Our friends Greg and Becky now jokingly call any bird of note a Turkey Vulture, a product of there having been a lot of Turkey Vultures pointed out to them during a trip up to the Hearst Mansion near San Luis Obispo one year.