The Solitary Boreal owl

The Solitary Boreal Owl ~ photo credit: Friend and mentor, bear biologist Lynn Rogers one of the finest naturalists I know

By Sara Wright

The day after the presidential election in 2016 I picked up what I initially thought was a saw whet owl wing while wandering down a red dirt road in Abiquiu NM. Just one wing and one talon. When I did some research to confirm identification, I learned that I had found the remains of a boreal owl, not a saw whet. The wings of the former are larger.
 
 I have only glimpsed a boreal owl a few times until this winter, but apparently, I have a resident because one hunts before dawn sitting on the same crabapple branch situated next to the side door. Although I eagerly look for him each dawning, I’ve also been concerned for the weasel that lives under the porch, although this owl is not supposed to eat mustelids but is said to feast on smaller prey like mice or voles and even little birds. Three nights ago, I heard one of his calls, a short series of staccato ‘whoos’. According to the literature this is not a mating call which would last much longer.
 
The boreal owl (Aegolius funereus) historically inhabits northern boreal forests but curiously its range extends as far south as New Mexico in the west and into Northern New England and Minnesota in the east especially during years of food scarcity. With even more aggressive logging on the horizon, I can’t help but wonder about owl habitat, one reason I visit the window each morning before letting my dogs out. I treasure each sighting because I don’t know if I will see this little owl again.
 
He has a squarish head, arched eyebrow markings, and piercing saucer -like eyes that I know are yellow though I can’t see the hue in dim light. Yet even then the white spots on his wings are visible. Although I never move once I have reached the window this bird knows that I am watching him. He periodically raises his head to stare in at me. At other times he disappears into the tangled center of Mother Pine the moment I move to the window.
 
I think this owl is a male because his overall size is so close to that of a saw whet. The females are larger. Boreal owls are not supposed to breed in Maine, so I am mildly surprised that he is still here the last week in February. Is it possible that he could breed here because most of my woodpeckered snags have cavities, and also because I have a mass of thick evergreens? After all, everything else is changing.
 
These owls are monogamous for at least one year. Three to six eggs are laid, the male feeds the female during nesting, and after the nestlings are born in the spring the male continues to feed the female and her owlings who remain with her for a few weeks. Papa is an excellent father!
 
Like most of their kind boreal owls have asymmetrical ears located at different heights to facilitate hearing, feathers adapted for silent flight, and eyes that are immobile but compensated for by the owl’s ability to turn his head 270 degrees, an amazing thing to witness.
 
Many aerial predators are threats, most are other hawks and owls. Horned and barred owls along with goshawk and cooper hawks frequent this area, so no wonder my little friend spends his days under thick pine needled cover.
 
One day while snowshoeing through the young pines I came upon small wing prints that probably belonged to this owl. A few drops of blood told the rest of the tale.
 
Owls in general are feared by many Indigenous peoples (the Navajos are one example) perceived as omens of death or predictors of the future. I do not take a position on these ideas except to say that all owls seem to have an aura of mystery around them. When I was about forty, I attended a weekend ceremony led by a Navajo medicine woman who was clearly keeping her distance from me. I finally asked her why she was behaving the way she was. At least she was honest. She told me I had owl medicine, but when I asked her what this was and why it was a problem, she refused to answer me.
 
Like other owls the boreal owl is ruthlessly mobbed by crows and other birds while roosting during the day. Whenever I hear a raucous mob, I go out to see if it’s possible to see the poor owl who attempts to escape by taking flight from tree to tree.
 
The remains of one boreal owl dating back to the Pleistocene ( a geological era that ended with the last ice age) were found in a cave in southern New Mexico. Bones were also found in a Pueblo in north central Mexico that has been inhabited from around 12,000 BC. through the present. Although I was unable to pinpoint the exact Pueblo, I suspect it was one that I visited while living in Abiquiu. According to a couple of sources the Tewa translate the word ‘Abiquiu’ as two words, one means ‘timbers – end’, the other ‘the hoot of an owl’. More common is the translation chokecherry way but chokecherries can be found up and down the whole river, so I question the latter interpretation, especially because to live in Abiquiu is to live with owls. I heard or saw them every day.