Snow day!

All night long I watched as the snow fell silently around the cage complex. When it snows like this the cages get very quiet: the occasional rustle of feathers as a Turkey Vulture rouses to shake the snow off; the subtle scrape of a Red Tailed Hawk shifting its weight and tucking a foot into its down. But mostly, silence, so deep and so complete I can hear the individual flakes of snow coming to rest on the drifts outside my window. 

By the time dawn broke this morning, the snow was deep enough to lose a prairie dog in (good thing I never drop my food). Everyone weathered (or feathered?) the storm well, myself included. I found the light sprinkling of snow across my forehead to be very refreshing. 

Now the Humans are busy shoveling pathways and brushing snow off all the perches. It looks like more work for them when the weather changes like this, yet everyone is smiling. Despite the inconvenience, the snow seems to make everyone happy, bird and Human alike. 

The cage complexes at dawn

...rabbit fur rug

First thing every morning, a Human comes around to all of our cages and peeks in through the sliding window, making sure they hold a gloved hand in front of their face in case anybird (cough...Ferruginous Hawk...ahem) tries to lunge at their face, talons first.

That early in the morning, I'm usually nodding off after an exciting night of hooting and eating, but this morning was different. I was waiting.

The sliding window rasped open, and I watched as a pair of blue Human eyes peered in at me, then widened in amazement.

That's right! I thought as I surveyed the carpet of disembodied rabbit fur lining the cage floor from wall to wall. Witness the destruction! Cower before me! Be afraid, be very afraid! 


The Human shut the window, clearly terrified and in awe of my might.

So...why did I hear laughter from the hallway a few seconds later?!