Who’s ‘Whoooo’ On Newtown Property

By Nancy K. Crevier

The owlet, a two-ounce ball of fluff and feathers cradled in the palm of bird researcher Larry Fischer’s hand, swiveled its head nearly 360 degrees, calmly taking in the crowd of people clustered about it. Approximately 4 weeks old, the baby screech owl was one of six that Mr Fischer had scooped out of the wood duck box located on Howard Lasher’s Dodgingtown Road property, along with the mother owl, for banding.

“Larry Fischer is Newtown’s own Roger Tory Peterson [ornithology expert],” said Mr Lasher. “I read about Larry a few years back, and called him up and introduced myself, because I love nature. We’ve been great friends ever since,” he said. It was Mr Fischer, he said, who encouraged him to install owl boxes around his property four years ago.

Since then, three clutches of screech owlets have been raised in the boxes, he said. On Thursday afternoon, May 12, Mr Lasher invited several of his neighbors and children to observe as Mr Fischer banded this spring’s nest of owlets.

The reason for doing so, said Mr Fischer, who is a federally licensed bird bander, is to find out where the birds go after they leave the nest, and how long they live. The tiny bands are inscribed with the phone number and address of the US Department of the Interior lab in Laurel Ridge, Md.

“Unfortunately, these owls don’t live much longer than about five years in the wild,” Mr Fischer said. “People are most likely to find them if they have been injured or killed. They are often hit by cars,” he said.

Earlier this month, Mr Fischer and Mr Lasher checked out the owl boxes, expecting to find a clutch. “Squirrels had taken over the owl box, though,” Mr Lasher said, “but Larry still suspected there were owls somewhere.” So the men opened up a wood duck box located on a nearby tree, and seven pairs of wide eyes stared back at them — mama screech owl and her six babies.

Assisting Mr Fischer on Thursday were members of the Fairfield Audubon Society bird banders and his friend Don Cadra. First out of the box was the mother owl. Mr Fischer leaned down from the ladder and gently placed her into a small net bag held by Mr Cadra, where she remained for the next hour as her youngsters were banded — and admired.

“Wow!” exclaimed 9-year-old Henry Vaughan, who was there with his brother, Jack, 11, and mother, Jennifer, as the first owlet was lifted from the box, carried down the ladder, and settled onto a shirt set on the ground. The rest of the owlets were placed in a large plastic bucket, where they quietly — so quietly, that at one point one child asked if they were still alive — waited their turn for examination.

Jack and Olivia Buchler, 11 and 8 years old, their mother Pam, and 10-year-old Sarah Widmann and her mother, Connie, joined the Vaughans, kneeling close as Mr Fischer gently examined the baby bird, banded it, and snipped a feather to send to Maryland for testing of hydrogen isotope levels. Different percentages of isotopes are found in the analysis at different latitudes, explained Mr Fischer, and this helps scientists determine approximately what region an owl, or other bird, is from. These screech owls, however, would most likely stay within six miles of their nest when they matured, he said, and the mother owl’s range was most likely a half-mile radius.

One by one, Mr Fischer retrieved the other owlets from the bucket, examined and banded them, and shared his knowledge with the group. Occasionally, an owlet would give out a series of clicking noises. “We don’t know for sure what that’s for,” Mr Fischer said. “It may be to scare you,” he responded to Jack Vaughan’s question about the curious sound.

These screech owlets had already shed the natal down with which they had been born, and were now covered with a mix of juvenile down and juvenile feathers, Mr Fischer pointed out. Before the adult feathers had fully grown in, and before they could even fly, though, these birds would be out of the nest. “They are just on the forest floor, at first,” he said. “You probably wonder what keeps them from being eaten by fox or coyotes or something else in the woods, right?” Mr Fischer asked.

The answer to that was somewhat obvious to his downwind audience, many of whom pinched their noses shut. “Owls poop as a defensive mechanism,” he said. “It’s not because they are scared. It smells so bad, that fox or anything else don’t want to eat them,” Mr Fischer said, and on cue, the owlet he was handling proved his point.

Despite the unpleasant chance of being on the receiving end of that smelly “attack,” all of the children, as well as Mr Lasher, eagerly stepped forward when offered the opportunity to hold an owlet. “This is really cool,” commented Sarah Widmann. Jack Vaughan said not a word, quietly peering at the tiny ball of fluff perched on his finger.

Henry suggested the owlets needed names, and by the time the sixth owl was in hand, “63 Magoo” (named partly for his band number), “Google,” Skydad,” “Peck,” “Chet,” and “Jeter” were each distinguished from one another.

The newly banded owlets were returned to the nest. As he placed one in the box, Mr Fischer noted that owls do not build nests like other birds. Manmade boxes must be filled with a soft, shredded material like sawdust or pine needles. In the wild, he said, screech owls would nest in hollows naturally “feathered” with broken down plant materials.

The last owl to be examined was the female. Mr Fischer weighed her, checked her wingspan, and like the young birds, clipped a bit of feather off. Turning her onto her back, he gently blew onto the owl’s abdomen, exposing the brood patch. “The mother owl plucks feathers from her abdomen, so that her skin is right next to the eggs and chicks to warm them,” he told the still attentive group of young people. Because the feathers are insulating, she would not be able to transfer her body warmth to them, if she did not pull the feathers out.

“This was neat,” said Henry.

“It’s a special part of living here,” agreed his host, Mr Lasher. “Growing up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, I majored in kick the can. I didn’t know a cardinal from a cedar waxwing; I thought that was a candle or something,” he chuckled. In addition to the owls, the Audubon Society has identified more than 36 different species of birds on his grounds, he said. “I feel very privileged to have this beautiful property and the nature here,” said Mr Lasher.