The scene … the Northwoods of Minnesota … the edge of the Boreal forest … the sound of a waterfall … four inches of bright, fluffy new fallen snow.  Nemesis!

At 5:00 am as I lay half awake in bed I heard them hooting at me through the darkness. My local Great Horned Owls were playing with my brain. For two years I have tried unsuccessfully to find this love pair. They will serenade each other (and me) one to two hours before dawn. I have taken numerous hikes in the dark in futile attempts to find their daytime roosts … perhaps even their “love nest”, but alas to no avail.

Living next to Amity Creek (often flows like a river), the sound of the rapids and a waterfall reverberates in the ravine’s echo chamber 200 yards from my home which makes triangulating birds by sound difficult. However, this morning may have been different. I decided to get up and throw on warm clothes. The walk and driveway needed shoveling. By 5:15 am I was outside working. My Great Horned Owls had stopped hooting.  I imagine they were actually chuckling. They had lured my out of a warm bed next to my wife into the dark cold Minnesota night.

But wait … after shoveling the sidewalk, the hoots restarted. Leaving the uncleared driveway and my shovel behind I starting hiking though the inky blackness. Clouds meant it was pitch dark … no moonlight to guide me. However I caught a break; Amity Creek is now beneath a layer of winter ice. Even the sounds of the waterfall were muted under ice. Slowly I worked my way uphill, pausing every 100 yards to listen. Jackpot. I found the grove of majestic white pines where my friends were singing their night time chorus. If I am lucky, these trees are their daytime roost … might I even get lucky and find a nest in  February? (Great Horned Owls nest early in the year … thus their young hatch as new prey is birthed by small animals … an abundance of food for needy chicks).

I will return to the location after sunrise. The freshly fallen snow means I may be able to find owl pellets, or whitewash on tree trunks. My binoculars will be around my neck.

Nemesis … are you mine?

Here is the cousin of Nemesis … a Great Horned Owl I saw last February.