Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond (birdhousefrog) wrote,
Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond

The Barred Owl Hoots*

From last night:

I'll edit this in the morning, but I have to jot this down now. The barred owl is talking. Hoo-hoo hoo-hoo hoo-hooooooo. How cool is that. The rain has stopped. Probably why the owl is talking. Cats are mostly out.

It rained, shortly after I finished the mow. The Grass Laughs No More, the second volume in the trilogy The Grass Laughs. The chickens got wet. While E and I were picking up our farm share, a downdraft gave us quite a bit of wind in town. Seems it also blew over part of the chicken fencing here, which of course I never noticed. An hour or so later when J gets home, he says there are chickens all over the paddock. He and I go out in the drizzle to put chickens back. They seem almost grateful, each one sitting down to be picked up and tossed over the permanent fence. I'll have to reset the temporary fencing tomorrow morning. They seemed cold and wet when I put them to bed after group. Nine were crowded on the top roost, two huddled on the second and the remaining lady looked very much as if she would like to push her way onto the top rung that normally holds about seven. There is a gross of eggs in the fridge, btw.

J points out that the frog is back in the birdhouse when we were down there. Wish I'd had my camera to update the user pic. He actually has his little, teeny paws on the opening this time as well as poking his head out to see what we were up to.

Work group went well tonight, even though we were short a member and pursuing separate projects instead of a gizmo. I served everyone lots of deviled eggs.

I wrote two different starts of several pages each on a story. The second finally yielded a paragraph I like:

Cobweb was put to sleep by fairy magic. Her last waking thought was to wonder who would string the dew that night. Not Crabapple, the Prince of Silliness. He would do it all wrong. The fairies laid Cobweb on a leaf and sang their magic spell, weaving it around her. It sounded something like starlight on a moonless night, the pure, clear sound of light coming from a very great distance.

Sleepy Frog

Great lunch date today. Lunch at school with E. Only problem is lunch is at 10:45. Sheesh. Need time to work some more on that story. Chilly, but not raining. Skies are crystal. Sun just coming up.

*I would violate a copyright if I uploaded Lang Elliot's recordings of a Barred Owl, which is how I learned the call (as opposed to a Great Horned that I hear occasionally in the winter). But if you search iTunes on Song for "Barred Owl" you should get two hits. One hit should be "Orchard Oriole and Barred Owl" John Feith. Downloading the sample is enough to let you hear the basic barred owl call (after the oriole).
Tags: farm, writing

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