It’s been two years since I’ve seen a snowy owl. I’m not sure if they took a vacation or they just learned how to hide from me and others the past two years. Then again, our weather has been perfect for them this year. They are my favorite of all the raptors and the most beautiful. They are graceful and accommodating when they could be unwelcoming and fly away when we come but no, they stay and they pose and sometimes they even smile. This little one was quite entertaining and only napped for a short time while I was there. She didn’t move around much but she was keeping a close eye on us to make sure we were not invading her territory. I must say that every time I visit my friends in the woods or at the ocean, most of the photographers there have great respect for the welfare of the wildlife. This little one though was foxy and had a surprise for those of us who were so enchanted with her that we stayed awhile. Me, I was hoping that she would fly while I was there. I haven’t gotten a snowy owl in flight yet so that was my hope for this time with her. Shooting wildlife definitely tests and teaches patience. I’m excited to share a few snapshots of my time with her on this very cold winter’s day.
She is a curious one and she had this dreamy look about her, almost like she was thinking maybe she should catch a nap…they are great for resting for short periods of time if nothing more interesting is happening.
We watch her and she watches us…but then, she takes a catnap…I’m not sure if she fell into a deep sleep or if she was praying but if an owl could pray, this is what it would look like.
She pops up and lets us know that she is keeping her eyes on us. Her parking space here was at the beginning of the marsh and she was situated on a corner lot so that some of use were on one side of her and another small group was around the corner. Owls have swivel necks so she would keep rotating her neck to check up on her audience.
Now, this is where it starts to get interesting and for someone like me, with a sensitive stomach a little scary…When I snapped the first shot of her starting to move and I saw her back feathers start to fluff up I was wondering if she was finally getting ready to take flight, head down and ready for left-off but I was way off base…then all of a sudden she turns and takes one more look at her friends with the big lenses and I’m assuming from her next move she was giving us a nod saying “you guys seem well behaved so I think it will be ok if I share my lunch with you”, because I could clearly see in the next photo that she had something in her mouth but I was not sure what it was…It looked tiny and had a little fur. The forth shot, she was back in the hole again…So, I was thinking that she caught herself a little mouse.
Oh my, this was getting interesting. I just kept snapping because I had never seen anything like this before and I’m not good with “the circle of life thing” but I stayed strong and hung in there. That certainly did not look like mouse fur though and I was really surprised that she was sharing this with us. My guess was that she must have been very hungry and we weren’t leaving so she took a chance and ate her lunch.
She seemed satisfied with that bit of her lunch but felt it necessary to check out the crowd on both sides of the road, once again…making sure no one was trying to get a closer look…she was very cautious. Coast is clear and she was back at with a much bigger piece this time…keeping it well hidden in her hole but if you look closely you will see a piece of the kill hanging out of her mouton the last shot. Now, it is starting to make sense to me. She has not moved from that spot since I got there and that was awhile ago. So, I’m starting to figure out that she made the kill earlier in the day and has been sitting on it, waiting for the perfect time to eat it and the perfect time was when she was really hungry. I was starting to get curious as to what was on the menu today…
Well, look at this, a bit messy, I would say.. That is a pretty bloody face…the kind of face that if it was one of my grandkids I would grab him by the toes and toss him in the tub…this girl was really enjoying herself. I had to check this out from the side view where the other photographers were standing. I chose my side of the marsh because it was closer to Ramona, that’s the name I gave her, but the group around the corner had an unobstructed view and my side had the marsh grass to work around...I was o.k. with that because I love the marsh grass. It adds to the scene and also adds a bit of that beach texture. Once I turned the corner though and saw where Ramona was getting her lunch, I almost wished I had stayed on my own side. There was this little beautiful rabbit sitting in snow. I know it was beautiful, because Ramona didn’t destroy her head…it was just sitting on the snow, eyes opened like she was alive…and the owl was pulling off her back end. I was so upset by the site of the poor bunny that I didn’t even take a shot of it. I just turned around and said a little prayer for the bunny and went back to take my place on the other side of the marsh.
Deep dive to finish up and on the move…leaving her seat and turning around…maybe she will fly off now that she has had her fill…
No, she just turned herself around and now she is looking right at us…I think she is still sitting on the rest of the rabbit though…maybe save it for a snack later.
By this time my fingers are frozen and my little Ramona has had her fill for the moment. She has settled herself in and her eyes softly close. She keeps a bit of her lunch by her side, just in case. She no longer feels the need to keep watch over her kill because she has feasted on it and now she feels safe and satisfied. She will not be flying anywhere soon. The sun is shining and she rests in the presence of nature. Sleep little one because we didn’t know it then but we found out shortly after that the snowstorm that came the next day was the last time anyone saw her for days. Her location here was completely snowed in so I hope she has moved to another beach and is busy, once again, filling her belly and enjoyed her fly-over of the coast. She is a beauty.
I always walk away from a day in nature feeling so much better about life…My life, the critters lives and the goodness of people that also visit. Most times I’m not with people and that is a beautiful experience also…sometimes it just me, the trees and my beloved deer that live in the Pine Tree Forest…I am always in awe of their wonder, both creatures great and small and yes, I do feel bad for the losers but not everything in life is perfect or fair, is it? The thing that most strikes me though is the sense of awe that I feel about the power of a spirit larger than any of us, humans, animals and wildlife of any kind. It is a pure and simple feeling. The earth taking care of all who inhabit it. For me, it will always be a spiritual experience. I am never alone in the woods, at the ocean or sitting on a beach…I find my peace there and I’m so grateful for where I live. That at any time, any day, I can decide where I want to be in the beauty that New England provides for all who live here both creatures great and small. It’s amazing what comes to you when you just pack up and go. When life in the real world makes you feel like you are at loose ends, with no answers to help change the world we now live in. I’ve never been disappointed in Mother Earth and I’m so happy to have spent this winter day with Ramona…may she have the strength she needs to fly back to the Arctic soon. Blessings, little one, and thank you for sharing your lunch with me..
The Snowy Owl’s Way of Healing
The Snowy Owl does not hurry the night.
It waits until the cold learns to breathe.
White does not mean empty.
It means enough light
to hold what aches
without naming it.
The owl sits where silence gathers,
listening to what has not yet found words.
Grief arrives like frost
quiet, exact,
never asking permission.
The owl does not chase it away.
It gives it space.
Eyes bright as winter stars,
the Snowy Owl sees without piercing.
It knows that some wounds close
only when they are allowed
to be seen gently.
In its stillness,
the heart slows.
Thoughts loosen their grip.
Pain learns it does not need
to stay sharp to be real.
The owl flies low,
so the land does not feel abandoned.
Its wings do not stir the past.
They smooth it.
Those who walk beneath its watching
do not leave cured.
They leave lighter
carrying less noise,
more breath,
and a quiet trust
that healing does not always speak loudly.
When morning comes,
the Snowy Owl fades back into white.
But the calm remains,
resting where fear once perched,
soft as snow,
patient as night.
