Owls, Community and Visibility
Community
The word “community” is used a lot. It means different things to each of us. What does it mean to you? When I contemplate my community, I include human beings and animals, like this gorgeous barred owl.
Barred Owl Visit
Last week, this spectacular creature landed by our little pond (you may recognize this spot along the brick path). I’m not sure, but I will say “her” because female barred owls are bigger, and this one was huge. In addition to the delight of seeing her so close, it was remarkable because, although we hear them, we rarely see owls at all. She spent several days hunting from the fences and trees.
Is she the same owl I greeted one night in the sideyard several years ago? We stood gazing at each other for such a long time. Or at least I was gazing at her. Does she remember? I hear her hooting in the front yard, calling to her mate. I have no idea if she notices me because her stealth abilities far surpass mine. (I would love to have the superpower of invisibility. See previous article.) She may not consider me at all, and I’ll probably never know.
I may also never know her and other owls’ full impact on the community. How they’ve kept the voles from completely taking over the land, or the critters fleeing neighborhood construction projects from relocating here en masse. Are they the ones who have dashed my hopes, year after year, of long-term resident yard bunnies? I have no say in any of these things, of course. Nor should I. The owls (maybe not this particular owl) were here before I was.
Neighbors
I hope we are getting along OK and they think I’m being a decent neighbor. I hope they don’t silently fume about my outside putterings and noises. Do they find me annoying? Do they tolerate me patiently? Is it possible to have a benevolent appreciation for one another? When this feathered member of my community drops in unexpectedly and hunts the frogs (whom I also LOVE!), it inspires hope and joy that can occasionally be elusive. I don’t have adequate words to explain why. It’s probably unnecessary to mention, but if any human member of my community did the same things it would definitely not elicit the same feelings?!
Visibility and Invisibility
In communities of all kinds, some members are highly visible, and some are not. Some actions and events have visible impacts, and some are hard to see. In any community (family, business, government, school, ecosystem, etc.), some members are front and center, and some are in the background. Some of the most important work, the most important roles, are the ones we never see and, therefore, don’t understand until the systems start to break down.
I love seeing wildlife in my city (ish) neighborhood because it gives me hope that these community members still exist. They feel like wise elders with other voices and ways of seeing and being in the world. We need healthy predators (look at that owl’s gaze) to show us humans what that dynamic looks like. It gives me hope we haven’t inadvertently sanitized this place of its precious diversity of life. And it gives me joy because the sighting of an owl going about her day is a beautiful gift. As if the genius loci of this place said, “Hey I know what will delight that lady! Here you go, sister!” It is a gift freely given, not for me really, but for all of us, a serendipitous combination of place, time, and attention.
I hope that in your community, especially at this complicated time, in this complicated season, you are finding some glimmers of hope and joy in your spaces, in your communities, and within yourself.
Wishing you a peaceful heart,
Mara
Read more about Healing in the Backyard
Read more about Birds from CornellLab


Lovely article, thank you, I enjoy the way you explain things.
Thanks so much Jo Ellen!