These birds are worth giving a hoot about

Winter is not the season when people normally spend more time outside, but for a nature enthusiast like me, there are wonders to discover regardless of low temperatures and less daylight. Amazingly enough, there is a warm-blooded creature that chooses this most inhospitable of seasons to reproduce. These days, at Bethpage State Park, I go looking for it despite the stiff breeze and a chill that dips into the teens. I seek a tiger, a "winged tiger." I am looking for great horned owls.

My search began weeks ago. These owls begin their reproductive efforts by living up to another of their nicknames, hoot owl. At dawn and dusk, they hoot to a cadence of "don’t shoot owls, help owls" to stake out their territory and attract potential mates. Normally solitary predators, they begin hanging out together, even perching on the same branch, as they establish the pair-bond that will cement them for the next few months.

Even for dedicated nature watchers, owls are difficult to find. Nocturnal by nature, during daylight hours, owls use their beautifully effective camouflage and secretive nature to become winged phantoms.

However, years of experience, persistence and good luck have been an effective trio for me. Since great horned owls do not build their own nests, they often seek out those vacated by red-tailed hawks, and I know where to find them.

The owls have shown a strong attraction to human-constructed, owl-nesting cones — structures built of tar paper, chicken wire and vines and placed in numerous trees throughout the park. Our resident owls have used them in about 70% of their nesting endeavors over the years. So, despite the weather, I check out the old hawk nests and nesting cones to search for our phantoms. I also inspect park areas with groves of conifers. With the barren branches of deciduous trees offering no concealment, owls love to vanish in the multiple needles of pines.

A benevolent status quo had settled in over the recent few weeks, and I found two pairs of owls (one on the Red course, the other on the Yellow (Bethpage has five golf courses) staying in the same area — groves of white pines — perching close together. The pair on the Yellow Course at one point could not possibly have been any closer, short of actual mating. To demonstrate their commitment, they even deposited a pair of well-formed owl pellets at the base of their tree. The season was progressing at a pace dictated by nature.

The owls have done their usual "change-of-scenery" activity — when they move from the place where I’ve seen them together to a potential nest site. I check out nests, both natural and artificial. I start in an area that had been owl-free this winter but does have a nesting cone. I see nothing as I wander around the grove of white pines.

Then, a typical, and telling sound begins and quickly intensifies. A group of blue jays are mobbing something. They are experts at finding, verbally assaulting and locating . . . raptors! They did that work for me this time.

I looked at the nest cone when I arrived, finding nothing, but as I wandered to the other side, I was greeted by one of the most beautiful and highly anticipated sights at the park — a pair of feathered tufts (the horns), gently swaying with the subtle, cold breeze. I’ve discovered my first great horned owl nest of the season. Less than a week later, the other pair also settled in to a nesting cone. A great start to 2022!

Reader Jim Jones, the staff naturalist at Bethpage State Park, lives in Bayville.