We often write about what we see or feel, but today’s inspiration came from what I heard.

The sun was just slipping below the horizon as Rose and I climbed into the car. We were headed back to the dance studio, our second home, when a sound from deep in the backyard stopped me in my tracks.

“The owl is back,” I announced. Before I even turned the car on, I was texting my sister-in-law to share the news.

That familiar, rhythmic call acted like a portal, instantly transporting me back to a soupy summer afternoon. We had been lounging by the pool while the kids found relief in the cool water. Suddenly, a strange noise drifted out from the woods behind the yard. We all froze, waiting, listening for it to repeat. The sound eventually lured the kids out of the pool. Soon, we were all lined up along the back fence, trying to place the sound.

“It sounds like a…hurt dog?” I wondered aloud, looking toward my sister-in-law, Molly, who was nearby with her one-year-old daughter, Sai. The sound came again. There even seemed to be a call and response. It was clearly a conversation, but between what?

“Maybe it’s an owl?” someone said. Molly hushed us as she held up her phone, successfully capturing the audio.

A few minutes later, the sound returned, this time coming from Molly’s speakers. She had identified the sound as coming from a barred owl. We spent the rest of the afternoon reading about them, captivated. For the remainder of that summer, every time those calls echoed through the trees, we would stop just to marvel at them.

I’m glad the owls have decided to make our neighborhood their home once again. It’s good to have them back.

If you want to hear the distinct call of the barred owl, click here.