During a birdwatching outing, I paid a visit to a pothole-covered road that is largely considered undrivable. The lack of vehicles and secluded nature of the road lend themselves nicely to being a popular birding location.
A merlin preened on a branch of a skeletal tree, contorting its body into all sorts of interesting positions as it tidied and fluffed its feathers with its beak and talons. Far away, in the distant overcast sky, the chatter of two crows sounded. Two black spots flew into view. And they saw the merlin.
A large shape was on top of the otherwise thin and angular branch and looked slightly out of place. But it was not out of place at all. It was an owl.
