Barred Owl feathers covered the ground.
So many feathers could only mean one thing.
I looked around for coyote or bobcat tracks but didn't see any. Then I looked up into the tree above me.
On closer inspection with binoculars and my zoom len, I discovered why I couldn't find any predator tracks.
All those feathers caught in the branch above surely meant our sweet calling Barred Owl was the victim of another owl; probably a Great Horned Owl (I looked up Barred Owl predators on the internet). Sadly, I will miss his distinct call in the evenings. Click below to hear a short few seconds clip of a Barred Owl. I am sure you have heard one before.
Barred Owl Hoot
To see a photo of a Barred Owl you can search google images, or click here.
On a lighter note, it's Easter and my son and grandoggie were in town for a visit. Always love getting to see them. Pockets had an especially good time playing in the mud. Boys will be boys.
He did let me see his sweet side, too.
That only lasted until he started chasing butterflies.
And checking on my at-one-time-presumed-dead trumpet vine I find it is doing amazing.
I can see these blooms from my kitchen window. Such a nice splash of color that makes me smile.