Great horned owls are the most common owl in the Americas, populating the icy north of Canada, the southern tip of Argentina and nearly everywhere in-between. They are equally at home in suburbia and remote woodlands. Even so, they are much more likely to be heard than seen. Their distinctive “who-who-WHOOO-who-who” can be heard throughout the night as mating pairs communicate and establish territorial boundaries.
These owls can be identified by feather tufts on top of their heads that are often mistaken for ears. The tufts may help camouflage the owls by breaking up the symmetry of their head; others believe they may be used in communication.
Hearing is a critical sense for these nocturnal hunters. The feathers of their face form a disc that directs sound to their ears, which are asymmetrical and hidden under this disc. Interestingly, they cannot move their eyes: to locate their prey, great horned owls move their heads left and right, up and down, triangulating an animal’s exact location. Combined with their superior hearing and silent flight, this ability leaves unsuspecting rodents with barely a chance.
Rodents such as squirrels, voles, gophers, rats, chipmunks, woodchucks and marmots make up a good percentage of a great horned owl’s diet, but they are not the only thing on the menu. These owls also eat frogs, scorpions, ospreys, peregrine falcons, crows, raccoons, rabbits, skunks and other owls. They have even been known to feed on domestic dogs and cats. It seems nothing is safe when these master hunters take to the sky.
Female great horned owls are larger than their male counterparts, up to two feet tall and with wingspans of nearly five feet. Weighing in at about three pounds, these birds are the America’s second largest owl, only slightly smaller than the great grey owl.
I recently parked my car at Drakes Beach and set off for the mouth of Drakes Estero. I hiked down with my camera gear in hopes of photographing harbor seals and perhaps some shorebirds. It had been years since I visited the spot, and I was moved by its beauty as I sat on a hillside, waiting for something to pass my way.
After a while I had the strange feeling I was being watched. I turned my head and to my left I saw a great horned owl sitting on the lichen-covered limb of a Douglas fir. As its deep yellow eyes considered my presence, I slowly turned my camera and captured one of my favorite seashore photos to date.
Daniel Dietrich is a professional wildlife photographer living in Inverness. He operates Point Reyes Safaris, a company dedicated to wildlife viewing and photography in Point Reyes National Seashore.