Well, I don't recall him having any owls but I grew up assuming they all hoot, that is until a family of owls set up home in a silky oak beside the house:
As I discovered, they're barking owls, which don't hoot. They don't really bark, either – they make unpleasant squawks and throat-clearing noises, neither of which lends itself to a catchy moniker.
They're scientific name? Ninnox Connivens, which sounds like a Bond villainess. We just called the first one we saw Oscar and have come to refer to them collectively as the Oscars.
There's a mother, father and two children, who vary in size and colour but have common traits. They're not as nocturnal as most owls and seem happy to spend their days either napping or engaging in staring competitions.
They're very good at this:
They always seem to have a stern look about them, but sometimes they look unimpressed to the point of disdain:
It's been a while since we've seen them in the tree and I guess the two young ones have flown off somewhere else. At night, though, I still hear the flapping of wings every now and then as one of them swoops on some unspeakable delicacy from the backyard.
It's kind of comforting to know they're somewhere nearby.
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