While gypsying in Kentucky, my VW van began to loose compression from driving out from Calif. So I pulled the engine to fix the valves. In 1973 Jim Crow was still alive and well in Kentucky and I discovered there was no distinction between migrant Hippies, and White Trash. I don't recommend being either one. To keep focussed and avoid the grimmer aspects of being stranded deep in redneck country without mobility, I did meditations in the evening or whenever it seemed appropriate.
Wherever I meditated, there often seemed to be a repeating "barking dog phenomena" that was distracting and interesting in a way that shouldn't be happening, but it was and it depended on my attention sort of like an audio feedback version of biofeedback. It was weird because I was living in my van at the time and slept in a different location every night. Different dogs, same phenomena. In rural Kentucky there were no neighborhood dogs, but an owl began to hoot regularly in a big tree about 300 yards away. I later asked a meditation instructor about it. He said it's not possible, there could be no actual association, it was just coincidence. Bull. I think he had no similar experience and said that the way Gramma says "Don't worry sweetie, a bear won't eat you, have some pie"
It got to be such an incursion on my peace of mind that I resolved to borrow a neighbors .22 and shoot the bugger. A meditation instructor would have cautioned me that anything that rash could put a dent in my progress toward enlightenment, but alas none were around at the time.
So I scouted the tree out one morning to see if I could tell where his hooting perch was. He wasn't there, but there was some large bird size poops on the ground below a limb on the south side of the tree about 25 or 30 feet up. There was no concealed route to the tree except by using the trunk as a shield. The next day, I took the .22 down to the tree to solve his buggering problem.
In case you've missed stories about how Owls just know when you're considering mayhem towards them: They do. Their insight seems to cover a range of perceived thoughts but all of them must recognize the owl itself in some form. For example if you see a flock of birds but ignore the lump of the owls outline, they still feel secure and don't react. But if you actually note the owl, they know it, they share that thought. It's a talent they've developed similar to fighter pilots who know when they're in an enemys' sights even though they don't see him. Or the feeling you get just before you look in the rear view mirror to see a cops flashing red light.
So when I went after the owl, I kept the tree between us but I had to round the trunk to take my shot. An instant before I did, he knew I was there and took off down hill through the trees like a flash. It's more than good hearing because he was 30 feet up and relatively safe from big slow ground dwellers; he knew I was a mortal threat. Later the same day, after dark, I was cooking dinner and a terrific shriek came from the tree outside. It was the Owl who came back to challenge me. I ran out to confront him. He was a black silhouette against the sky and branches, glaring down at me for a brief second, flew, and disappeared over the house. I've heard *of* the owls war cry but had never actually heard it before. It starts as a midrange hoot and quickly ascends upward in range and volume into a shriek. It made my hair stand on end. You know you're being called out. Moreover, you discover you're dealing with a territorial male that will hold a grudge and defend his honor when he's been embarrassed in front of his family.
I took the VW head w/ bad valves to a cracker machine shop in Franklin. He popped the valve seats out. But that doesn't work on VWs because they tend to fall out when they're put back in, further messing up the pistons & heads. I told him that and asked for the head so I could trade it in at the VW dealership in Bowling Green. He refused to give it back unless I paid him (for ruining it). So I hitched 60 miles to Bowling Green which was the nearest VW dealer and asked if they had a used 1500 head that they could sell cheap. The desk guy said no problem and pulled a good one out of a pile and gave it to me free! I hitched back to Franklin and the following day I put the van back together.
By the time I'd put the engine back, my already weak battery had run down from using the cabin light at night for most of a week, so I tried to roll the van down a slope to get it started (you can do that with cars that use generators but not with alternators). The gas line and Carburetor float bowl were drained when I removed the Carburetor and it takes a few minutes of cranking to get it filled again. The hill wasn't long enough so rolling didn't work, and I was stranded at the bottom of the hill next to a wood lot that separated tobacco fields from a creek. That night the Owl came back to visit, and he brought his friends.
I heard whooshing wings and got out of the van to see what it was. Owls make their living by silent flying so the noise had to have been intentional; he was announcing himself w/o hooting. In retrospect, it may have been courtesy. He sat silently in the tree at his preferred height for a moment, then another Owl flew in across the tree tops and lit a few feet away, then another and another till there were eight owls perched in an area about 20 feet across. The others probably waited till they were sure it was safe. Several were smaller but obviously the same kind, and probably an extended family. They regarded me silently, I said "Hi Owls". Two of the smaller ones flew away when I spoke and one of the larger fluttered like preparing to join them. They were all silent and I didn't understand the message. I guessed they wanted to know why I was there impinging their territory so I told them the territorial calling disrupted my peace but I'd had no opportunity to sell leather goods anywhere in the area so I was running out of money and planned to leave for Florida when I got my engine running. I said "You win. Just let me get out of here". Then 3 of the large owls flew away and 3 remained. I went back into my van. When I looked later, they were all gone.
I defy anyone to call this "only anthropomorphism". What else could it be. My only perspective is through conveyed human experiences, anything else is either magic or a form of communication among social creatures based on whatever we have in common. Territory is what we all have in common, for Gypsies, it's the final frontier.
A few years earlier, I'd parked under a streetlamp in a field that was being subdivided for housing in Irvine ca. A Great Horned owl lit on top of the light pole and presently I was aware of a faint chittering-squealing-squeaking like a tribe of drunken mice having a party. It was faint and I thought maybe some kind of rodent population explosion, like they would swarm into my car if I opened the door, but I couldn't locate the source. It seemed to be coming from everywhere. After awhile I determined it came from above : It was the Owl. It went on and on. He must have been trying to draw mice out so he could catch them by making them think that if so many other mice were already there, it must be safe to go out. It kept me awake for hours till I finally got out and shooed him away so I could sleep.
The next day I visited the Univ of calif at Irvine. They have a big Student Union cafeteria with outdoor tables where people can chat, snack, and study, with a central light over the middle of the plaza, suspended by cables. I noticed there was a big Owl roosting asleep on it in broad daylight surrounded by hundreds of people. I said to a guy next to me "Hey check the big owl" he looked right at it and said "what owl?". I had to describe the exact location before he saw it, the light fixture wasn't that big and the owl took up most of the volunme. Then while he was watching, I said to the Owl (in a normal voice) "Hey Owl: how do you like being kept awake when you're trying to sleep?" The Owl turned it's head, looked straight at me for a second, then flew away.
I know for a fact that they talk. I had a pet skunk that would follow me around in daylight and I'd turn over boards and stuff so he could sniff around for bugs & worms. I'd talk to him and he'd come when he heard my voice.
OK, one night I heard something that sounded like my voice talking (except it wasn't me) and it was high in a tree. It wasn't making any sense and the sound was just approximations of words like "hulrof, romph, ueoghrop" like someone trying to approximate the gist of a foreign language without knowing any actual words. It was a Great horned owl, and he was trying to entice my friend skunk to come out in the open. I told him to buzz off and he did but 2 days later Mr skunk dissapeared forever. Owls are about the only thing that kill skunks for food. Vultures, crows, and seagulls will eat them but they won't kill them. No other animal will bother them twice.
I suspect stories about Owls calling your name are true in a way. They're social like dogs where they share a group identity and learn to identify outsiders. If they see you responding to your name, they'll announce you by calling the name. If you're a dangerous or unpopular outsider, it's the same as a shot across the bow. That would be a good sign to update your social standing or catch a quick ride outa Dodge. Some parrots like McCaws do it and they're trained to be watchdogs in South America, but they're pretty upfront and in your face about it, whereas an owl is a strangely familiar voice (with big eyes and horns) calling from the shadows, so parrots don't have spooky connotations even though they do the same thing.
Happy Halloween
